


Cherished Treasure

by rubydoe



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Age Changes, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Betrayal, Bofur is a Sweetheart, Bonding, Drama, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Dwobbits, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Family Drama, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Grief/Mourning, Hair Braiding, Heartache, Heartbreaking, Hobbit Courting, Hobbit Culture, Jealous Fíli, Kíli Is a Little Shit, Mischief, Ones, Parent-Child Relationship, Post Hobbit, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Siblings, Protective Thorin, Protectiveness, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rule 63, Self-Discovery, Self-Hatred, Shy Ori, Sibling Love, Slow Build, Smut, Soulmates, everyone survived BoFA, fem!Bilbo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2018-02-17 01:49:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 124,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2292455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubydoe/pseuds/rubydoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been thirty five years since the Battle of Five Armies which left Bilba exiled from Erebor. Now a lone figure stands nervously at the gates, unsure as to the welcome she is to receive. </p><p>For the rest of Thorin's Company, things are about to get turned upside down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone is a bit younger, by about 10-20 years except for Fili, Kili and Ori at the beginning of the quest.

The trip from Dale to the gates of Erebor was mostly a blur. She remembered walking there. Remembered the curious stares of the dwarves she passed. She kept to the edge of the road to keep from the way of passing carts and the heavy pressing traffic. She watched food, cloth goods and other such things moved towards the dwarven kingdom, while heavily guarded carts with rattling chests of armour, weapons and jewels headed for the city of man in an endless circle.

It had been thirty five years since the death of the great and mighty Smaug the destroyer and the reclaiming of the Lonely Mountain by the exiled dwarven king, Thorin, son of Thráin. Now the kingdom was thriving. The human city of Dale rebuilt and the ruins of Laketown long since removed. In its place was a monument to the lives lost during the dragon’s attack, Smaug’s iron casted skull on display as a warning of greed at the head of the newly constructed lake port.

The farmlands around the the mountain were still weak, the soil poor despite the long years since the desolation. She had stopped, looking out at the failing crops, sad looking wheat stalks, bowing corn and browning barley and remembered thinking how they should just burn the lot, turn the soil and let the ground rest for the year. That really they were going about it all wrong, but who was she to judge, she was just a hobbit. With a shake of her head she had continued on.

Now she stood with a crumpled envelope in her shaking hands and her pack heavy on her back before the mighty gates of Erebor, her long journey complete. She knew her eyes were wide with awe and just a little trepidation. She had no idea of the reception she was in for. What would the Company think of her? What would the king? She swallowed at the thought, but took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. She had come all this way and if they were just going to turn her out… well then she’d continue on her journey. She had always wanted to see Rohan.

With that in mind, she approached one of the gate guards and tried to keep her steps steady under his heavy gaze. He had been watching her from beneath his helmet the moment she had come into sight. She bit her bottom lip. “Um, excuse me, Master Dwarf. I was hoping you might be able to direct me to where I might be able to find Master Dwalin?”

His thick brow pulled down into a mean looking scowl. “What’s this now? What business would you have with the Guard Captain? Be gone. The Captain is far too busy to be dealing with the likes of you.”

“What?” She closed her open mouth. “The likes of _me_? You, Master Dwarf,” She jabbed a finger at his breastplate. “Do not even know me, let alone my _likes_. I simple yes or no would have sufficed. There was no need to be rude.” With a huff she crossed her arms below her chest and leveled him with a stare.

The guardsmen would beat anyone who claimed that he let the little female cow him, but there was something about her fearless fire that just made him want to please her. Now that he looked at her, she was quite the sight pleasing herself, even with her smooth cheeks. But the lack of beard made the sweet apple in her cheeks stand out all the more and did nothing to dull the sharp blue of her eyes. What a shame her black locks were all bound up in a bun at the back of her head, made him wonder how long it might be.

He had stared long enough for her to begin fidgeting. She turned up large pleading eyes. “Please, Master Dwarf, I’ve come a long way and I’m very tired. If you can’t leave your post or don’t know where he is, can you not point me to someone who can? Please?”

Let it be known that Cravo, son of Darvo, would never turn away a female in need. With a grunt he called out to another dwarf just coming up the road. “Gimli, just returned?”

The newcomer nodded. “Ai, just had to get a few things from the men in town. Who’s this little thing?”

“Oh! I’m so sorry. I never even introduced myself.” She backed away a step and bowed as she had been taught. “Marabell Baggins, at your service.”

“Ba-Baggins?!” Gimli stuttered, shooting a look towards the guard before turning his eyes back towards the halfling as if seeing her for the first time. He noted her travel stained clothes and the small sword at her hip. He choked on whatever it was he meant to say afterwards.  

The guardsmen bowed low in the following silence. “Mistress Baggins, Master Gimli would be happy to bring you to Master Dwalin, if that is your wish?”

She let out a sigh of relief and turned a grateful smile onto the younger dwarf. “Thank you, Master Gimli. I hope this isn’t any trouble for you.”

“I- No, Mistress Baggins. No trouble. I’ll show you to the Guard Captain right away.”

With one last thankful bow towards the guard, Marabell followed Gimli’s lead into the great dwarven city of Erebor.

Her eyes jumped from one feature to another. To say Erebor was like no place she had ever seen was no lie. Its rich greenstone architecture was both powerful and oddly graceful. Smooth archways decorated with beautiful runes. Thick pillars held up stone pathways veined with silver. Everything was big and laid out in layers, though she dared not get too close to the edge to see how far she could see down into its heart. The paths were packed with dwarfs going about their day and she did not want to risk getting knocked over the edge. It would be a rather sad ending to her rather long journey.

Holding her letter to her chest, she followed closely behind Gimli. From time to time she noticed his eyes on her but they quickly turned away the moment he noticed her gaze. They were heading down and she was surprised at how bright the inner mountain was. There were fires, adding their warm glow, however the bulk of the light seemed to come from the stone itself. A gift from Mahal she remembered reading.

As they travelled down, she did her best to ignore the openly curious looks from the dwarfs they passed. She did note the slow change in their clothes as they descended, from fine silk of the noble class to the rougher, heavy linens and hardened leather of the workers. She also wondered at how not every little sound echoed. She would think that you’d hear a pin drop for miles in the stone halls, but the walls had a way of absorbing sound, giving the high ceilinged caverns a warm, comforting feel.

Or maybe it was simply because it felt like _home_.

Gilmi pushed open a large set of doors, followed quickly by two others. It opened into a large amphitheatre with a rough stone ceiling and curved bench seating. Instead of a stage at its heart was a pit. The arena floor was covered with a deep layer of fine sand. Two figures were squared off at its center. She noticed at least another dozen dwarves watching from the benches.

“Here you are, Mistress Baggins. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Marabell turned her eyes towards the fighters, her eyes fixing on the simply massive dwarf wielding a hammer. He - well he dwarfed his competitor. The other held up a pair of axes with unsure hands. It was clear he was outclassed and did not want to be there. The larger dwarf barked out, “Come on, you sniveling babe. It’s not like its sharp!” Then laughed as he easily swung the giant warhammer from one palm to the other as if it weighed no more than a simple wooden stick. She swore she could see the other shaking from her spot at the top row.

In her silence, Gimli had turned to leave, taking it as a dismissal but stopped at her soft call. “Master Gimli, uhm, just one last thing. Which one is Master Dwalin?”

He looked more than a little surprised by her question and all the more confused. “He’s… the one with the hammer.”

“Oh,” her lips froze in a little O shape before thinning out into a determined line. With a quick smile and bow she thanked him for helping her before squaring her shoulders and moving quickly down the steps. Gimli would never admit it, but for a moment he was caught up in watching her move like water, all smooth and graceful as could be, as she walked down the stairs. With a little mental shake he headed out to find his father. Mistress Baggins had returned.

Near the edge of the arena, Marabell stopped just behind the other spectators who were so fixed on the two out on the sand that they had failed to even notice her. She resolved to wait till the fight was finished till she could get Dwalin’s attention. Though the wait did little for her nerves.

She had thought he was big when she had been higher up, now on the ground level he was just monstrous. All bulking muscles and fierce power from his thick arms to his arching mohawk and head tattoos. His beard had sand caught in it and he skin was flushed with sweat, but he didn’t appear to be the least bit winded. Looking over the others sitting on the benches however she noted that this was not his first victim of the day. Several others sat to the sides looking battered and bruised.

A collective gasp brought her eyes back to see the smaller, nearly beardless dwarf now flat on his back gasping for breath while Dwalin loomed over him. He rested his hammer up onto a single broad shoulder. “And ’re dead. A tree could kill you, you move so slow.” The young dwarf at his feet cowered under a stare Marabell could not see before he reached down a meaty hand and hauled the fallen dwarf to his feet. “I expect better from you. Next!”

Seeing her chance, Marabell called out, “Oh, excuse me!” Everyone seated in front of her jumped, some all the way to their feet. Their reaction startled her even and she flushed. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to sneak up.”

The only one who hadn’t turned was Dwalin. He moved towards the edge of the pit where they had racks of weapons sitting. “There a reason you’re interrupting?” he snapped.

“Yes, there is.”

Dwalin started. His eyes jumping up to meet a round pair in a surprising shade of blue. She had moved around the arena as he had and now stood directly overhead and he hadn’t even heard her move. A quick glance showed that his students had noticed his reaction and he sent them a sharp glare to quiet their snickering.

The blue-eyed female had crouched down to be more on level with him when he turned his head back. She was holding out a crumpled letter. “It’s for you,” she said hoping that he hadn’t heard the slight tremor in her voice.

He stared at it for a moment before snatching it from her hand. “This better be important.” He turned the paper over a few times. There was no seal and the edges were worn, the folds sharp. The letter had clearly been written some time ago so it was likely nothing important. If it had been they would have sent a raven. The sneer dropped from his face the moment he began to read.

_Dwalin,_

_I hope this letter finds its way to you, and with it my most cherished treasure. I knew not who else to send her to, nor the reception she will receive once there. Please forgive me in this, but I know you would be able to safely deliver her to Balin. The smaller letter included within this one is for his eyes only._

Dwalin turned his attention to the second, smaller envelope. It was just as aged as his own, however bore a plain red seal and was bound with twine.

_Should your brother no longer be among us - for it had been some years since I have last heard news of him and some more yet since I have written these letters - than the letter and its contents will fall to you. I know you will see them through._

_I wish to write you more, old friend, however I know not what else to say. So I will simply say, Thank You._

_Bilba Baggins, of Bag Ends_  
_at your service._

He carefully folded the letter and slipped it into a pocket before finally looking at the letter’s bearer. How hadn’t he noticed? She had her mother’s same gentle face and upturned nose. The eyes were the same shape, though not the same colour as Bilba’s had been a rich green. The hair was different also, not the copper gold of her mother’s but pitch black. Same ear though.

He had completely forgotten about the younglings till one of them muttered something unflattering about the same ears he had just noticed. He barked at them in Khuzdul and they quickly filed out of the room.

Dwalin turned his attention back to Bilba’s daughter. Mahal, Bilba’s daughter. She had had a child. It was a little hard to imagine. The Company had often wondered what had happened to their little burglar since she had left them on the eve of battle. They had missed her sorely but as the years passed, had thought less and less of her. If he was honest, he hadn’t spared the halfling a thought in some years. Now here was her daughter.

And although he could tell she was nervous, she fearlessly met his eyes and he was reminded of a time where a young hobbit lass opened a her green round door to the sight of a unexpected dwarf at her doorstep.

He wondered what her presence in the mountain meant for the rest of them but decided to forgo those thoughts. They were better left to his brother and knowing the older dwarf, he already knew something of the situation. If not in whole, at least in part.

He brushed the sand from his beard and clothes, exchanged the warhammer for his pair of axes and jumped out from the pit. The lass pulled back and stood, giving him room. And it might have just been him but he thought she seemed a bit tall for a hobbit. Then again, who was he to judge? He had only ever known one other hobbit before. Likely took after her sire. Which raised a few more questions he didn’t care to get into either. Best find his brother.

She hadn’t been sure what his reaction to the letter would be. She knew what it said and knew it wasn’t much. She also knew that her mother had never told the Company about her. But she had expected more than just a grunt and a gesture to follow as he marched up the steps and back out the doors.

This time she struggled to keep up. Dwalin was a large dwarf, his strides long, forcing her to jog slightly as they traveled back upwards. At least Gimli had made sure she hadn’t fallen behind. Dwalin made so such effort. Although in his case at least the crowds parted for him, making a clear path in his wake for her to follow along.

After more twist and turns and even more stairs than she had ever had the fortune to climb before, coupled with her already long journey, Marabell was starting to stumble over her own feet, her breath coming out in heavy pants. She wondered where they were going. Her only guess being that they were headed towards Balin, Dwalin’s brother. As they moved down a pathway with a clear view of the empty throne, she prayed that that was the case. Last thing she wanted was to be dumped in front of the king.

There had always been that fear that her mother’s exile from the mountain would extend to her as well. Her mother had done her best to quell such worries but as Marabell had drawn closer to Erebor they had resurfaced and she began to dream of all the ways things could go wrong for her.

More often she dreamed that she was in her mother’s place as King Thorin cast her down from the battlements over the city gates. Had it not been for the quickness of the elves below and the swift actions of a certain wizard, that would have been the end of her mother’s tale, splattered across the broken stones below. Her reward for saving a kingdom. In the dead of night the thought brought her the terror of sharing the same fate. In the daylight it brought nothing but anger and hatred for the King Under the Mountain.

Lost in thought, Marabell bumped into Dwalin’s hard back when he stopped to open a door. He grunted with a sharp glare before disappearing inside, leaving the door open for her to follow. She did so slowly, carefully pulling the door closed behind her. Directly before the door faced a long stone desk scattered with papers, books, an ink pot and a lit pipe. Overhead a lantern gave off more than enough light to write by. To the left was another door. On her right a seating area with a semicircle of high-backed chairs around a glowing fire.

Dwalin’s large frame blocked her view of the dwarf behind the desk, but from the warmth in his voice and his welcoming tone, she guessed it to be Balin. Her mother had always spoken fondly of the dwarf.

“A letter? Since when do you bring me my mail?” Balin teased, taking the proffered letter from his brother’s calloused hands. It was an old thing. A strange thing. With a simple red seal and rough twine. But it was the corners, all worn and soft as if it had seen more than just a few pockets on its travels that caught his eyes. The letter must be several years old if he was to judge.

His brother crossed his arms with a huff but didn’t answer as he watched Balin break the wax seal and unbind the letter. Like his own, another envelope slipped onto the desk. This one had a green seal and was more carefully wrapped. The white haired dwarf set it to the side for the time being and turned his eyes down to read his letter.

At the sight of the familiar scrawl his old heart jumped and he knew who the letter was from.

_Balin,_

_My old friend, I do hope this letter finds you well. It had been some years since our last exchange and more yet since I write this. I fear you might already know what this means._

_You are a clever dwarf and..._

There it more to the letter, but he lowered it and drew in a deep breath. He does know what this letter means and he cannot stop the tears that fall. He had known this day would come and yet that knowledge did not lessen the hurt it brought.

“Brother, what is it?” There is worry and concern in his brother’s tone.

They had all dealt with loss before, but it did not make such news easy to give. “It seems... our Burglar is no longer among us.”

“What?” At the news Dwalin turned to the figure which up until that point had been lost behind his tall frame as if seeking answers.

Balin’s old eyes land on the hobbit lass and Bilba’s words jump back at him. _You are a clever dwarf._ And he was. He also remembered the letters he had received from the lass over the years. At the time he had thought little of it. When he had contacted her that despite her banishment that she was still entitled to one fourteenth of the gold. His letters had gone unanswered and Thorin had ordered the gold delivered to Bag End regardless. It was hers and he would no longer keep it in the mountain.

Had it not been for Gandalf who arrived just before they had planned to set out, they would have arrived to an empty, cold hobbit hole. The wizard also had in his care of letter from the lass addressed to him. Thorin had been hurt and angry but since it was her gold to do with as she wished he had little choice but to abide by her wishes and give a half of it to help Dale with its rebuilding, on top of the gold Thorin had already promised them, and asked that the rest be given to all the families returning to Erebor. A small sum to aid them in starting their new lives, at Balin’s discretion. With the unspoken rule of provided slightly more to those with the greater need than those already well off.

As it was, over thirty years later there was still much of their Burglar’s gold left. Balin had even started to give some to new mothers as encouragement to raise more children. There were so few left of their kind after all the years of loss. As it was it would take hundreds of years for Erebor to even reach half of its population before Smaug’s attack.

But it was her reason for not wanting the gold which he remembered most. Her letter had read, _‘I took only a single jewel with me. I have no need for anymore. As it is whenever I look upon it, I am reminded of everything we went through to reach this point. It hurts sometimes, but I’m grateful nonetheless. It’s all I’ll ever need.’_ He had thought little of it then and later when she had written to ask if when the time came, they could watch over her most precious treasure, he again thought little of it. Gandalf had only waiting long enough for him to write a quick reply saying that they would, that it was the least they could do for everything she had done for them, before he had run off to do more wizard deeds. That was the last he had heard from her.

But it came to him now. What was more precious than one’s own child? A child she carried back with her. The only jewel she had needed. One that reminded her of all of them, but most importantly, one that reminded her of _him_.

“Oh, no.” Balin turned sad eyes towards the sitting area. With his brother’s sudden appearance he had forgotten about the rooms other occupant. Thorin had moved to stand just outside the ring of chairs, the fire at his back. They hadn’t heard him move and Balin felt a swell of sorrow for his king as their eyes met. Dwalin’s form slumped and he lowered his head seeing Thorin’s haunted, confused and hurt expression.

“Bilba’s… How? When did this happen?” The last held a thread of anger and the king turned his hurtfilled stare on the little hobbit messenger in their midst. “Tell me!”

At the direct order, Marabell’s whole stance changed. Her back went steely, her lips lined to a hard line, hands closed into fists and her blue eyes lit with fire. “No.” The room stilled at the ice in her tone. “You have _no right_. How _dare_ you?” the hobbit hissed, stepping around Dwalin. It didn’t seem to matter to the girl that Thorin stood a height taller than her, she stared down the King Under the Mountain. She didn’t need an introduction, her mother had described the dwarf to her often, more so in her later years. There was no mistaking him. “You have no right to be upset when it was you who killed her in the first place!”

“What?! How dare you-”

She cut him off. “No! You killed them both! And now you want to play remorseful? Where were you all these years? Did you even care? You just left her, threw her to the side when you were finished. You took my brother from me! And you want-”

Thorin surged forward. “She was my One! Who are you to-”

“She was my _mother_!” They watched as her expression broke like fine glass and tears spilled down her flushed cheeks. She turned and was gone a moment later.

Balin cursed. “Dwalin, get her back before she gets himself lost.” With a nod the larger dwarf ran from the room, not even bothering to close the door. They knew just how quick footed hobbits could be and should the young lass not wish to be found then they might never find her. Coming around his desk, Balin smacked his king across the back of his head like a youngling. Thorin turned angry eyes on the old dwarf but Balin ignored him. “Now you’ve gone and made a right mess of things, Thorin.” He closed the door before turning around to face his king.

“She's-” Thorin pointed to the door and Balin took pity on his often dense leader.

“Ai, Bilba’s daughter. _Your_ daughter. Who, it seems, also got your lovely temper to go with your eyes.” It was situations like these that made Balin feel very much like a dwarf nearing his two hundred and twenty-fourth year. It also made him want to drink. Since he had none of that in his office, he did the next best thing and knocked the spent ashes from his pipe and refilled the bowl.

“She was with child… And you knew?” The hard edge of accusation was there but Balin simply ignored it, steering his king towards back towards the fire.

“Not as such, no. As far as I knew she had lost the babe.” He held up his hand. “Let me explain before you go jumping to conclusions.” He waited for Thorin to settle back in his own chair before offering him his pipe. Thorin took a long pull before handing it back. “As I said, as far as I knew she had lost the child shortly after she was exiled. With the sickness, I saw no need to add to your burden. Since she had not told you before, it was hardly my place to mention it after.”

Thorin slumped forward, his hands running up into his wild hair. He had pulled several of the braids out when he had come into his office earlier. His sister enjoyed braiding the thick bands of grey at his temples into a tail at the back. Said she enjoyed the sharp contrast between it and his remaining black locks. “Was it because…”

Even after all the years, Thorin still carried the heavy guilt of his actions that day when he, in his madness, had cast his One from his mountain. Balin had no doubt that he would forever regret it and he truly hated to add to it. However Thorin had the right to know the whole tale now. “I went to check on her some time later that day. When they directed me to their healing tents I didn’t think much of it. But when I saw her…” His throat tightened at the image of Bilba’s eyes, so lifeless and lost as she held a tiny, wrapped bundle to her chest. “It was a boy. The healers said it was from the stress. It had been too much for her to bare.”

There were tears on the king’s cheeks when he turned his face up some time after that. “...There had been another babe then.”

Balin nodded and rose to get the unfinished letter from his desk before sinking back into the chair across from the heart sick king. He continued, this time aloud so that Thorin may hear what had been said.

_...You are a clever dwarf and I know the moment you see her for yourself that you will know who her sire is. She has his temper too - so tread carefully! But when she smiles I can often see the boys in her grin or the mischief in her eyes. I thank the gods every day for giving her to me and for not taking both my children that day. Though I worry often, hobbit twins are often bonded tightly to each other and some days its as if she’s looking for someone who isn’t there._

_But I write this with the knowledge that I am not long for this world. I feel myself slipping away and with each day I watch my daughter’s anger at her sire grow. I fear she will come to hate herself for being half dwarf, but my daughter has always been a poor hobbit. Though she knows the earth like any other, her headstrong nature and mix appearance makes life difficult for her here in the Shire. She broke the nose of the first fauntling to make fun of her small feet, if you can believe it, and as soon as she had interest I had her training with the rangers how to use a sword._

_I know life will be unbearable for her here without me. I can see it in her eyes. She loves Bag End but it’s never really been her home and she has a very long life ahead of her. I raised her on tales of our adventures and I know she knows who her father is without ever asking. I’ve done what I can to highlight the good, however her bitterness grows as greatly as her curiosity. I know she longs to meet the Company and needs to learn more of herself._

_So I’m making it my final wish for her to travel to Erebor. I sent her to your brother first only because I felt his position would make him the easiest to find and to approach. I hope he didn’t mind. I fear my letter to him was rather short._

_Also I pray that you break it to him gently. I know this will not be easy for him and he will be angry that I never told him of her. Oh, and you might want to keep her away from him for a time till she is more settled. I fear she will not react well should she come across him by surprise._

_Take care of her, my dear friend, and thank you._

_Bilba Baggins, of Bag Ends_  
_at your service._

Near the end of the letter Balin became aware of Dwalin’s return. His brother shook his head when their eyes met. “Lost her four floors down. I have some of my boys looking,” he said gruffly before clapping a hand on his friends downturned shoulders. “We’ll find her, Thorin. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. You’ll just have to make it up to Bilba.”

Thorin covered the warrior’s hand with one of his own, his eyes still fixed on the floor between his boots. “I don’t even know her name.” His voice sounded small for a king. Broken and resigned.

“Marabell. She said her name was Marabell.” Dwalin was happy to be able to give him that at least. He hoped that one of his guards found her soon. It wouldn’t take long for news to spread of her arrival. They’d hear word of her soon enough.  


	2. Chapter 2

Marabell hadn’t meant to run out of the room like she had. She really hadn’t. It had been more of a flight or fight response really and the fact that shortly after she’d left the room she had a monstrous dwarf running her down hadn't helped. She had just run faster and harder, taking turns and stairs as she passed, weaving around other dwarves about the halls.

Soon she could no longer hear Dwalin shouting her name and had wandered into a less populated area of the mountain. She slowed to a walk, catching her breath while berating herself for yelling at the king as she had. If there had been a chance for her here before, it was gone now. The moment the guards, or Dwalin, caught her they were going to throw her right back out the front gates and exile her just like they had her mother.

At some point as she had wandered, she had, like all hobbits in need of comfort, began to follow her nose. Even so she was surprised to find herself standing in the doorway of a very large, very busy kitchen.

Standing at its center like a king in his own right was the roundest dwarf she had ever seen with a big red beard. “Bombur.”

He jumped with a slight yelp, not having seen her but quickly smiled. “Well, it’s not everyday a hobbit walks into my kitchens!” He grinned. “But like everyone else who wanders in I’m sure you are hungry. Wait there, let me get you something to eat.” With a kindly smile he turned, dusting off his hands as he ambled around the other workers to fix her something to eat.

She fidget under the curious looks of other dwarves and took to sitting on a high stool tucked near the corner to wait for Bombur to return. She hadn’t come here looking for something to eat, although now that he mentioned it, food did sound good. She hadn’t eaten since early morning before she had left Dale.  

He had just finished loading up her plate and was half way back across the kitchen when an excited voice called out, “Bombur! You’ll never guess what I heard!” A grinning dwarf stumbled in through the doors in his rush. He had a worn, sad looking hat on his head with two curled braids sticking out the sides and a dark mustache. “Bilba’s back!” He announced with a wide, excited grin.

“Really, Bofur? Maybe that’s why I have a hungry hobbit in my kitchen.” Both eyes turned to her.

She watched as Bofur’s bright eyes widened as he took her all in. She couldn’t stop the slight blush which pinkened her cheeks when he gave her a dimpled smile. “Bofur, at your service,” he said with a bow, removing his hat as he did so. “This wonderful cook here is my brother, Bombur.”

“Oh, um.” She hopped down from the stool. “Marabell Baggins, at your service. It’s wonderful to finally meet you both.”

“Baggins?” Bofur shared a quick look with his brother. “So you’re related to our Bilba then?” She nodded but he quickly continued on before she could speak. “You must be waiting for her to get out of her meeting with Thorin and the others up in Balin’s office then. Will they be long, you think? I can’t tell you how happy I am that we’ll finally get to see our little burglar again. I was worried we’d never get the chance.” He grinned happily.

Marabell shifted, biting her lip as her eyes saddened. Her mother had always spoken fondly of Bofur. On several occasions she had revealed that she had sometimes wished her heart had fallen for the cheerful toymaker and had wondered how different her life might have been had that been the case. Seeing the dwarf in question for herself, Marabell knew that her mother would have been happy with someone so cheery. It was clear that Bofur cared for Bilba and Marabell had always had a fondness for her mother’s stories regarding him... Which made what she had to tell them all the harder.

“I’m so sorry,” she started, taking a deep breath. “I- Bilba’s not here.”

“Oh?” Bofur visibly wilted. “That’s a shame. I really thought she’d finally come back. So she sent you? Or did you come on your own?”

Marabell’s eyes turned away from the hopeful sight and she had to harden her heart to what she was going to have to tell them. These were her mother’s dear friends, and they would find out one way or another. Best it came from her anyways. She took a deep breath and stepped forward, taking both of Bofur’s mittened hands in her own. His eyes jumped to hers, wide with surprise from her boldness but she saw the moment he realized what she was going to say when his gaze suddenly closed off. “I’m so sorry, Bofur. But she’s gone.” His hold tightened on her hands but he didn’t pull away. His head fell forward and she saw the shine of tears even before they fell onto the backs of his mittens. “I’m so sorry,” she breathed, surging forward, unable to stop herself from offering him what comfort she could. She wrapped her arms about the dwarf's frame. He was stiff at first, then quickly melted into her embrace as he cried against her shoulder.

 _‘Dwarves may want the world to think they are made of stone,’_ her mother’s voice echoed in her mind. _‘But they are anything but. As quick to cry as they are to pick a fight.’_

It should have felt strange. She did not know this dwarf, though she felt like she did in some small way. Her mother had told her so much about the Company. Their likes and dislikes. Their strange little habits and even how they slept. She had known what food, drink and pipe weed each proffered. Who liked to sing, who could dance and which enjoyed playing their instruments most. She knew their dreams and wishes and hopes. Bilba had passed all of these things onto her as she grew. So Marabell couldn’t help but feel like she already knew them all.  

When his arms loosened about her, she stepped back from him feeling slightly embarrassed though determined not to show it. His eyes were red of the tears and he shoulders still slumped but he looked at her curiously. She smiled softly and explained, “Bilba was my mother.”

His eyes widened in surprise and he took a step back. “I should have seen it.” He looked her over again. “You have her same warm eyes, though the colour is new.”

Bombur sat the plate down beside her stood, taking a seat for himself. “Can you tell us what happened? You don’t have to, just...”

“No, it’s okay.” She she bit at her lip. “She... faded. Six years ago now.”

Bofur had taken to ringing his poor hat in his hands. “Faded? Did she… She didn’t suffer, did she?”

“No, not as such.” Marabell looked down at her own hands. “She just didn’t wake up one morning.” She wasn’t sure if it would help to share that fact or not, but the memory was still a hard one for her to remember. In the back of her mind she had known it was coming. Each day her mother had slept a little more and a little longer. Those times when she was awake Bilba was often so caught up in old memories that hadn’t notice anything else. It had been hard, Marabell had still been young herself and to have to take care of her mother on her own... If she was honest, she had been relieved that morning when she went to wake up her mom to make sure she ate and she hadn’t opened her eyes. Her mother was at peace. She had her set to rest amongst the flowers of the back garden and Marabell had finally been able to leave the Shire which had never truly welcomed her.

For a while she had thought Erebor might be her new home but soon she would be cast out from it as well.

“Oh, lass...” She looked up when the heavy weight of Bofur’s hand landed on her shoulder.

She felt tears bite at the backs of her eyes but she refused to cry. “I’d always wanted to meet you all. She told me so much about you. I feel like I’ve known you my entire life even if I’ve never seen your faces.” She shook her head. “It’s just so strange being _here_. It’s too bad I wont be here very long,” she said regretfully.

“Why not?” Bombur frowned. “You just got here and it’s the prince’s nameday feast tomorrow. You can’t leave yet! You need to stay for that at the very least.”

“I don’t want to leave! But once Dwalin finds me he’ll cast me out for sure.” She had a sudden chilling thought and the colour drained from her face. Hugging her arms around herself she asked, “They won’t kill me, will they? For yelling at him like that? Or throw me in the dungeons?”

The brother’s shared a worried look. “Who?” They asked.

“The king.” She bit her lip. She found it odd to use his name, though she knew it. She also refused to call him father. He had not earned that right. She might consider King Thorin, but that was a good as he was going to get and only because she felt that if she was more respectful he might just spare her. At least long enough to do what she was asked to do in Erebor before she was forced to move on.

“Thorin? I doubt it, lass. Thorin is used to being yelled at by now. Should hear the earful his sister gives him daily.” He smiled. “Want to share why you yelled at him in the first place?”

She shifted. “Not really.”

Bombur nodded. “Well, either way. You’re here now and you are going to stay. We’ll not let big old Thorin throw you out. Now eat, you must be starving. I need to get the cakes for tomorrow out of the ovens before they burn and make sure we have everything else we need. I’d rather not have to do too much last minute.” With that he jumped down from his seat and moved off to talk to the nearest chef.

Bofur quickly took his brother’s abandoned chair and gave her plate a little push towards her. “Better listen to him. Might not let you leave until you do.”

With a grateful smile, she tucked into her late lunch. Her tummy gave a happy rumble for it. She let herself hope for a moment that she might be able to stay. It would be nice to eat seven meals a day again. She had missed that since leaving Bag End. She glanced up from her meal to seeing Bofur’s curious eyes.

“There’s something… different about ya. Can’t put my finger on it. Nothing bad, I assure you. Just something familiar.”

She took another bite of her meal and waited for him to find his own answer.

The dwarf pulled on the ends of his mustache in thought, looking her over again. “Shoes! You’re wearing shoes. Thought all hobbits didn’t wear shoes.”

“They don’t.”

“But you got shoes on.”

“I’m not all hobbit.” She watched with amusement as his face went blank as he attempted to make sense of her answer.

“Not a hobbit? But you’re Bilda’s girl.” She only nodded. “But-” He frowned. “Your sire wasn’t a hobbit then?” His frown deepened. “A dwarf,” he growled, looking positively murderous. He jumped up from his seat. “That bastard! I’ll take his braids meself. How could he-” He was already heading for the door. Bombur called out to him asking where he was going. Without turning Bofur shouted back, “To kill Thorin!”

“No, wait!” Marabell moved to go after him but the door was slammed closed and Bombur was at her side with a hand on her arm.

“Let him go. He won’t get far before his anger runs out. A lot of us were angry for what Thorin did to your mother. It wasn’t right. But it’s still a sore spot for Bofur. I fear he was rather sweet on your mum. And then for Thorin to do what he did with her with you and all...”

Marabell looked towards the door before finding the round dwarf’s sincere eyes. She let out a long breath. “She was sweet on him too. Your brother I mean.” Bombur looked surprised. “She used to joke that if the king hadn’t stolen her heart first she would have dragged Bofur back to the Shire, made him fat while he made toys for all the fauntlings.”

Bombur’s whole face softened into a wistful expression. “He’d have let her too.” He sniffled. “That Bilba of ours… She always put everyone else’s happiness before her own. I’m sad that we’ll never get a chance to tell her just how sorry we all are. We all wished we could change that day.”

Not wanting to talk about such heavy things anymore, she turned her eyes to the rather impressive cake the dwarf had set up on one of the large tables. “So who’s birthday is it again?”

“Fili’s! Our prince is another year older and I fear becoming more and more like Thorin with each turn. He’s becoming far too serious. We’re hoping the celebration will help bring him back to himself a little.”

“Oh, I wish I had known so I could have gotten a gift!” Her mother would frown at her something fierce for such a thing. Though it was customary for hobbits to give gifts to their guests on their birthdays, she had spent enough time outside the Shire to know that most races only got gifts of their birthdays. Maybe there was still something she could give him. “Oh, Master Bombur, can you tell me if he still won't eat apples?”

“Wont come near the things. I don’t think he’s even eaten one since our journey.” He ran his hands over his round stomach. “You thinking of making something? It’s not necessary you know, a gift I mean. You didn’t know after all and-”

“No no. Mum would never forgive me if I didn’t give him something for this birthday and I think I know the perfect gift too. Do you have any apples?”

His brows rose at that. “Yes. Got a whole bunch in from Dale just this week but surely you aren’t going to give him apples. I just finished telling you-”

“It’s tomorrow right? The party?” Bombur closed his mouth and simply nodded. “If they’ll let me stay till then, then maybe I can use the kitchen? Just for a little while before the party?” Again he nodded and thought it worth it for the way she simply lit up. Even if poor Fili was going to end up with apples for a gift. If she smiled even half as bright for the prince then Bombur was sure he’d forgive her.

She was still smiling when Dwalin pushed his way in through the doors. Instantly the smile was gone and the round dwarf noted Dwalin’s shoulder drop every so slightly at the sight. “Come on, lass.” He turned to hold the door open. “Balin wants to talk to ya."

She turned briefly to Bombur. “Thank you for the food.” She gave him one last tight smile before heading out through the door. At the cook’s hard stare Dwalin simply shook his head, signing ‘Later’ behind Marabell’s back before following her out.

The walk back to Balin’s office felt longer. She wasn’t sure if it was because it truly was longer, that she had wandered that far, or if it was because each step just felt so heavy. Already she felt emotionally drained and frayed. She wasn’t sure if should would be able to handle another meeting with the king. Likely she would end up yelling again, or crying and she really just wanted a nap. She had been up since dawn and really most of the night. The inn she had stayed at in Dale hadn’t been the nicest thing around. At one point someone had tried to get into her room and she had been awake for the rest of the night after that.

As if sensing her despair, Dwalin finally spoke up. “He won’t be there. Thorin, I mean. Balin thought it best to give you both some more time before you have to see each other.”

“Does this mean you’ll let me stay?”

Dwalin turned so quickly at that that she nearly ran right into his chest. “Of course you’re staying. Just try to bloody leave and you’ll have half the mountain after ya.”

There was that smile again and Dwalin quickly turned, hoping his ears hadn’t gone red along with his bearded cheeks. She looked so much like her mother when she smiled liked that.

Again Dwalin didn’t bother to knock as he entered his brother’s office. Marabell was quick to glance towards the chairs by the fire this time. They were thankfully empty.

“Now then, my dear. I hope you are all right?” She turned to the white haired dwarf at the desk and suddenly realized they were alone. “Oh, don’t mind him. I think he wants a word or two with our king as well. Tact as never been one of Thorin’s strong suits. I’m very sorry about all that. I’m sure it’s not the welcome you envisioned when you got here.” He gestured towards the chairs. She was thankful to sit down.

Marabell folded her hands in her lap. “To be honest, I wasn’t even sure if I would be allowed in at all. I mean… with mum’s exile,” At this Balin frowned. “I honestly thought I might be turned away at the gates. I think that’s why mum sent me to Dwalin first.”

“Is that why…?” Balin sat back in his chair. “Did she still really think that after all this time? Marabell, Thorin lifted your mother’s exile the moment he was well enough to do so. We sent her ravens. We took her silence to mean she no longer wanted anything to do with us after everything that had happened to her.”

Marabell jerked in her seat. “No! She waited. Till the very end she waited. She kept saying that you were just taking a while to get settled or that you’d all forgotten that not all races were as long lived and that time moved quicker for hobbits than for dwarves.”

Balin gave a heavy sigh. “To think, all this time… The ravens came back with no replys at first, and then with their letters unread. After the first few years Thorin ordered us to leave your mother alone. That we had no right to force our way back into her life if it was against her wishes. We all missed her greatly, but we owed your mother peace at the very least.”

“She almost approached a caravan passing by Bree from the Blue Mountains once. We had just moved back to the Shire when she heard there were dwarves nearby. She was going to get them to pass on a message but when she got to Bree she overheard them talking about her. Apparently they knew what had happened and had been talking about her likely because they had seen the other hobbits in town.”

“She did not return to the Shire?”

Marabell shook her head, “No. It wasn’t until she was crossing the Misty Mountains that she realized she was with child still and she said that she really hadn’t been looking forward to going back to Bag End. We lived in Rivendell till I was about seven, I think.”

“We had no idea. It’s no wonder that our letters went unanswered. Until Gandalf brought news, we thought the worst had happened.” The old dwarf’s brow creased down and they lapsed into silence. Marabell found herself pulled from staring at the fire when he continued. “Why did you come here? If your mother thought all this time that she was still banished… why did you come? Was it to see Thorin?”

“No!” She all but shouted before she could stop herself. “No, it wasn’t to see _him_.” She clasped her hands in her lap. “It was her last wish,” the answer was soft. “And after everything she had gone through, I was going to at least try. She missed all of you so much,” her voice was thick with tears, her head hung low when she felt the press of his hand on her shoulder.

“It’s been a long day and things of such a heavy nature can wait for another. I’ve had a room readied for you. Take the rest of the day to rest. Bombur will have dinner sent up to your room a bit later.”

With a warm hand he lead her out the door and down the hall. Thankfully it wasn’t very far. Her feet her starting to drag behind her and she didn’t relish the thought of many more stairs. They took a turn to the right passed a set of wide looking guards when the design of the hallway suddenly changed. It was wider and brighter. Halfway up the walls was marked with a thick line of runes carved into the stone then painted over with a gold paint. It looked beautiful against the natural green of the mountain rock. The doors they passed were few and spaced far apart. Each had a rune done with a silver paint and a large coloured stone embedded in the door just below an unfamiliar symbol. They passed another pair of guards coming down the hallway. They moved to the side to allow them to pass.

The door Balin stopped at had a emerald the size of her eye embedded in it. “Well, this ought to suffice. If you need anything, pull the rope next to the door and a servant will be right up.”

“Thank you, Master Balin.”

“Now none of that. It’s simply Balin. Try to get some rest. I fear the next few days are going to be hard on all of us.”  

Balin took his leave which left Marabell alone to explore her new surroundings. As it turned out it wasn’t a single room with a bed like she expected, but a suit of rooms. The first from the hallway opened up into what served as a sitting room. There was a desk in the one corner, a fireplace and more chairs. The floor was covered with thick woven rugs. The furnishings were rich and to her delighted surprise not made from stone as those in Balin’s office had been, but of smooth polished wood. And not only the furniture. There were beams of knotted wood across the ceiling as if they truly supported the weight - though she knew they didn’t. The doors were also wooden with a curved edge along the top. More wood was inlaid around the fireplace and around the doorways.

It was so unlike how she pictured a dwarven home to be. Along with the deep green fabrics around the place, it was positively hobbit-y.

She stopped. This room had been meant for her mother. Looking around she noticed little hints here and there of touches put in place just for her. The flowers carved above the mantel were her mum’s favorite and the over stuffed chair by the fire looked shockingly similar to the one that had been in their sitting room back at Bag End.

Marabell moved at a more sated pace. She dropped her pack next to the bed when she found it before checking out the remaining doors. But all her melancholy lifted the moment she opened the door to the bath. “Oh,” she breathed. “I’d love to see them try and get me to leave now.” She was kneeling naked in the massive stone tub before she had even figured out how to work it, her dusty travel clothes scattered about the floor in what her mother would have called a ‘dwarfish mess’. She didn’t care. This would be her first proper bath in months and she planned to enjoy every moment of it.

 


	3. Chapter 3

With no windows anywhere inside her room so she had no idea for how long she’d been asleep for. Only that her dinner sat untouched in the sitting room and she had crawled out from the towel she had been wrapped in after her bath to burrow naked under the furs of the bed at some point. The slide of the sheets against her clean bare skin had been so surprisingly sensual that she had been reluctant to leave them when she woke up. However the threat of someone coming to check on her did get her moving and dressed in her least dirtiest of clothes. She really needed to get her things cleaned. She had been grateful just to be able to wash her smalls in the tub the night before. The rest would come soon she supposed. She still wasn’t sure how long she would be staying.

She pulled on a pair of dark leggings to go with her cream coloured tunic. Feeling oddly underdressed, she added a pale green vest to it before closing her belt about her narrow waist with her sword on her hip. She added her boot dagger out of habit before twisting her hair up into a knot, not bothered by the dark ringlets that hung down around her ears.

As she left her room and ventured into the hallways, she hoped it wasn’t the middle of the night.

Marabell did managed to scare the piss out of the poor guards at the end of the hallway however when she greeted them with a friendly, “Hello.” They had least still had the presence of mind not to draw their weapons on her, but only just. She tried not to laugh at their surprised faces but couldn’t help her wide grin. “I’m sorry, but I was hoping one of you might be able to tell me what time of day it is?” They gave her a queer look as if she had just asked what the mountain was made of.

“You’ve spent too much time under the open sky if you’ve lost your stonesense,” quipped the younger of the two only to be roughly elbowed by the other. “What?” The guard scowled at his partner who bowed.

“Name’s Frar, at your service, Princess. And I’d ask you to forgive him, however I think it’s about time someone learned when to keep his thoughts to himself.”

“Princess?” She stared at the guard’s very serious face and wanted to tell him she was no such thing. Only.., she was, wasn’t she? She had never given it much thought. Hobbits had no need for titles or gold and only ever wanted their simple comforts. Perhaps in this way she was more hobbit than dwarf. Either way she was still the daughter of a king. Their king. It was going to take a little getting used to.

The young guard had visibly paled and Marabell saw the beginning of a panicked apology forming and really didn’t want to deal with it quite so early in her day. So she quickly addressed the older guard Frar, “The time?”

“You’ve missed the seating for breakfast, Princess, and still have some hours before noon,” he answered with a bob of his head.

“Thank you. Now, would either of you be able to tell me how to get to the kitchens?”

Since his young partner seemed to have gone mute, Frar answered. “If it’s a meal you be wanting, we can have one brought up to your room right away.”

“No, no thank you. I have some things I have to do in the kitchen before the party tonight. So if you could just tell me the way.”

She had listened and had had them repeat it back twice before she set off, however she was barely out of sight of the rooms when she found herself lost and by trying to backtrack she only seemed to make it worse.

Standing to the side of a large open pathway, she looked out at a small market. There was no food though, which she found odd, only crafted items for sale. It was by no means the kitchens, but she was if nothing curious and started towards the nearest stall.

“Mistress Baggins,” A stout dwarf with his brown beard braided in loops bowed to her behind his table. “Tafo, son of Drainfo, at your service. Is there something I can help you find?”

She looked up from the stunning, if not overly large, necklaces and bangles on his table. “The kitchens,” she answered quickly, before her eyes caught sight of a shockingly large jeweled piece.

“I beg your pardon?” He blinked at her in confusion.

She looked up with a shy smile which had the jeweler blushing beneath his beard. “I’m lost actually. I was looking for the kitchens when I found myself here. Thought I’d take a look first before finding my way.”

Marabell felt another dwarf slide up beside her even before he spoke. “You’re on the opposite side of the mountain from the kitchens, you know.”  

“Well that just figures,” she huffed. “These are beautiful by the way.” The jeweler puffed up at the praise and Marabell turned to Nori standing with a light smirk at her side. “If you dwarves want to mess with me, you might want to consider changing how you style your hair or something. I could have drawn Bofur’s hat mum described it enough. Along with your hair.” She pointed a finger up at the brown, tri-pointed locks at the top of his head, then lowered her voice. “Oh, Master Spy,” she added playfully. It had been her mother’s nickname for the dwarf.  

He laughed at that as he discreetly steered her away from the little shops. “We might just do that. Hate to make it too easy for you. Mahal knows we did not make it so easy on your mum.”

“So I’ve heard.” She was not surprised that Nori already knew who she was. Her mum had mentioned that there had been little the dwarf didn’t seem to know about the goings on within the Company and had been the first to bring up her affections for their exiled king. Bilba had warned her that there was no better dwarf to share a secret with than Nori, however you couldn’t trust what he might do with said secret once given.

They were moving down a hall with runes marked periodically into the wall. “I should warn you that it is unwise for you to be alone so deep in the mountain.” At her raised brow he continued. “It’s is not that it is unsafe… just very large. It’s not hard for even a dwarf to become lost or even trapped in some of the more lesser used areas.”

“I thought that Erebor was fully restored now?”

“Not quite.” His eye had a habit of jumping towards every shadow, turn and nook they passed. It was making her feel twitchy. Out of habit her hand fell to the sword at her hip, drawing small comfort from it. She hadn’t given any thought to the fact that just being inside the mountain might not make it completely safe. She suddenly felt foolish. No city was truly safe. Even here there would be those looking to take advantage of a lone lost female. Though from what she knew, crimes against her sex were treated with the utmost severity.

Still, Nori was right, she shouldn’t be wandering around on her own.

He gave her a crooked smile as he held open the kitchen doors for her. Marabell looked around in confusion wondering how they had gotten there so fast, but a happy shout from Bombur inside drew her attention away and Nori took that moment to fade back into the shadows.

“Good morning, Mistress Marabell. I was hoping you might still come by. I got those apples set out for you on the table over there. Still not sure what you have planned for them.”

She smiled warmly at the portly dwarf. “Just Marabell, please. Or Bell, even. That’s fine also.”

He rang his hands in his apron, casting his eyes down. “I did not want to presume. I knew your mother and all but…”

“No, that’s quite fine. Now where can I find…” The rest of her morning moved swiftly after that. Bombur did his best to stay out of her way and point her towards the items she needed as she asked. She borrowed an apron and commandeered a workbench for herself before hunting down the things she was missing. She was lucky that Bombur kept his pantries very well stocked and she only needed to make a few small changes to her recipe that thankfully wouldn’t affect the taste.

Marabell set to work washing and peeling the best of the apples, dividing some up to be mashed while the rest she would keep as nice even slices. She worked happily, humming a small tune to herself. She was so caught up in what she was doing, she hadn’t even noticed that Bofur had come in and had taken a seat near the end of her table. She quickly set him to work breaking apart a few loaves of day-old bread into smaller cubes.

“Do you not like Fili?”

Bofur’s sudden question had her looking up. “What makes you say that?”

The toymaker gestured to the apple she was cutting. “The lad hates apples. I’m sure my brother told ya.”

She used the back of her hand to push a few stray locks back from her eyes only to feel something grainy rub against her skin. Looking at the back of her hand she realized that she had just rubbed sugar on her face. The bag must have leaked at some point.

Bofur’s hands stilled as he watched her run her pink tongue across the back of her hand, chasing the line of spilt sugar along her skin. Her eyes closed with the motion and she licked her lips at the end. He tore his eyes from the sight, disgusted with himself for the feelings the image had invoked. The lass was Bilba’s daughter. He had no right to be thinking such things. Not to mention she was Thorin’s daughter. The king would have his head for sure!

“Darn stuff gets everywhere…” She picked up another apple and began to cut. “But yes, I know he doesn’t like apples but he’ll love these ones.”

Keeping his eyes on his work he asked, “What make’s ya think that?”

Her hands stilled and her eyes got a far away look to them, but she just smiled. “Because he will.”

They chatted pleasantly together. He peppered her with little questions about herself and offered up stories of his own. Bofur found that enjoyed nothing better than making the little lass laugh. Her whole face lit up, her cheeks pinkened and for a moment he saw his Bilba.

Bombur watched his brother sadly from across the room with just a little bit of worry. It wouldn’t do well for him to get too involved with Marabell. As Bofur opened the oven, Marabell pushed in her baking dish. Bombur took that moment to join the pair with some lunch while she waited for her dish to bake and he spent the time swapping trade secrets with her while his brother leaned back, eyes going back and forth between the pair as they chatted with a small smile on his face.  

Once they were done their small meal and their dishes cleaned and put back on the shelves, at Marabell’s insistence, he had others who could have cleaned them, her dish was out of the oven and ready for the finishings. Marabell was all smiles as Bombur set her treat to the side, away from the others already prepared for that night’s dinner feast, when Nori slipped back in through the doors.

“Miss Bell, there is someone who wants to see you.” He held open the door.

“Oh,” she dusted her hands on her apron before removing it and quickly washing her hands. “Thank you so much, Bombur, for letting me use your kitchen. You too, Bofur. Thank you for the help. I enjoyed it very much.”

“You’re welcome here any time, Bell, and I’ll make sure your gift makes it where it needs to go for tonight and that there is no snacking,” at this the round dwarf cast a hard eye over to the other cooks who had taken to chatting quietly over Marabell’s dish with hungry eyes. They suddenly looked very busy as they scattered.

“I’ll see you both later?” They nodded with smiles and she happily grinned back. “Come now, Master Nori,” she walked for the door with her head held high and a bounce in her step. “Let’s see what they want.” The spy smirked at the bothers before following her out the door. They heard a muffled, “Which way?” through the door.

Bombur pushed Bofur from the stool he was seated on the moment they were gone.

“Hey now!” The toymaker jumped up, straightening his hat.

The rest of the staff had cleared out, leaving just the two of them. With a heavy sigh the cook took a towel from his belt and began to wipe down the counters. “She’s not your...?” He met his brother’s hazel eyes with a raised brow.

The smile dropped from Bofur’s face as he shook his head.

“You were lucky with Bilba.”

Bofur leaned against the nearest table staring at his boots. “I know.”

It went without saying that Bofur had almost been sentenced to live his remaining life alone. Bombur had been lucky in finding his One so early in his life. All he had wanted was for his brother to find the same happiness he found in his Tanil. While Bofur enjoyed his crafts, he was not wed to them like many others. When Bilba first came along he had thought it finally his brother’s chance. However it quickly became apparent that another had his sights on the little hobbit and his brother had backed off.

He feared that Bofur might be seeing Marabell’s presence as a second chance.

Bofur pulled on his braids as he pushed himself off the table. “I’ll see you later tonight.”

* * *

It wasn’t until they reached the first branch in the hall that she stopped and allowed Nori to lead. “Um, so where are we going?” she asked nervously, hoping it wasn’t to see Thorin.

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “Back to your room. They’ll meet you there.”

“You’re not going to tell me who ‘they’ are, are you?” He grinned. “Thought not.” They walked in silence for a time. “Do you think you could explain what some of the runes markers mean?” She gestured to one such rune carved into the wall. “Might help to prevent a repeat of this morning.” And she also wanted to know what they meant. Since dwarves coveted their language so tightly, her mother had only been able to teach her a few things in Khuzdul. Mostly curses. Well her mother hadn’t taught her those directly, but Marabell had heard them enough growing up to get their meaning.

The walk back to her room was taking far longer than it should. It took two loops before Marabell had learnt enough of the runes to notice that he was taking her in circles. She huffed in her annoyance to which he grinned and turned them about and up a flight of steps. Finally they entered a guarded area with the golden runes along the walls and she was happy to know where to go from there. Which was a good thing since Nori quickly left her, disappearing back to wherever it was he seemed to hide until he was needed again.

There were new guards waiting where the pair she had talked to that morning had stood. They eyed her sharply but didn't stop her and she continued towards her room. 

She thought for a second that it was Thorin waiting for her by the fire and she nearly closed the door again, but in that moment’s hesitation she noticed that the invading dwarf was wearing skirts. Upon hearing the door the dwarrowdam turned with a warm maternal smile and a sparkle in her eyes. She stayed in her place near the fire and allowed the smaller female to look her over, as she did the same.

Marabell had to admit that this was the first time she had seen another female in the mountain besides herself. She knew they were there, they had to be, it was just that she hadn’t seen any yet. She knew this to be Dis. The similarity between her and her elder brother were too close not to be kin. Her hair was just as blank with her silken beard kept short along her jaw. Her sideburns were long and braided, held in place with beautiful hair clasps. There was little else to see besides the fine layers of her robes. So many so that Marabell was unable to see much else of the female’s figure. She had to admit she had always been curious about just how much alike to dwarves she really was. Her cheeks were smooth like a hobbits and her feet small like a dwarf's, and while her ears were again those of a hobbit… she wondered what else made her a dwarf. She was a bit tall for a hobbit, nothing too outstanding. She had a hobbits curves, or at least thought as much… Overall it was just confusing for Marabell who was neither but both.

Dis stepped forward to take her hands. “I had waited for the day when I would be able to welcome a nephew or, Mahal blessed us, a niece into our family. Though you are a little bigger than I would have like you to be upon our first meeting,” she cheeked. “There are so few little babes running about our halls that I long for it again. However I welcome you all the same, my niece.”  

Marabell’s heart was warm and she worried she might cry when Dis pulled her into her tight embrace. It had been a long while since she had been held as such. It made her she missed her mother dearly and she clung to the older female who equally returned the gesture. “Thank you,” her voice was watery but she held back her tears.

Pulling back, Dis did not relinquish her completely. “We’re family, my dear. If you need anything, you come to me.” She dropped her hands as she ushered her towards the chairs. “I fear my brother is an idiot and has caused much unnecessary pain with his stubborn ways.”

At the mention of her father, Marabell shoulders went rigid. A reaction Dis didn’t miss.

Her face turned cold. “I’m not here to plead his case for him. He will need to work at earning your forgiveness for himself.” Her grim face jumped into an easy smile. “No, I’m here to get to know my new niece and to make sure you’re ready for the feast tonight. I know the others are eager to meet you.”

Marabell smiled down at her hands. “I’m excited to meet the rest of them as well.”

Dis waved a hand at her comment. “I know you’ve already had a run in with some of the Company. I’ve had to make sure a few others didn’t storm your door last night when you didn’t come down for dinner. Those males have no patience for anything, it seems. They will see you soon enough. Now, tell me about your journey.”

The conversation was easy from there. Marabell felt herself eager to share and answered all of Dis’s questions happily. After a time Dis rang for some tea and cakes to be sent up. Marabell hadn’t even realized how starved she had been for another females presence until Dis announced that the feast would be starting shortly and that they better get ready.

This brought up a whole new set of problems for the dwobbit. She had nothing to wear and had no idea what would be expected of her. Dis, wonderfully, seemed to feel her panic and quickly stepped in.

“Now, I know you brought little with you, so I assume you will be needing something to wear. I have a few things of mine that should fit you and I’ll have them brought over shortly. First, into the bath with you and use everything on the small tray I set next to the tub. All of it. Or I’ll come in there and wash you myself.”

At Dis’s fierce motherly command, Marabell smiled and discovered that there was indeed a tray set next to the tub when she entered the bedroom. A thick bar of sweet soap, a bottle of rich oil, a fine comb and a small bowl of what looked like rocks. Marabell brought it out from the bath, “What’s this for?”

Dis looked at it in surprise. “Bath salts. Pour the whole thing into the bath before getting into the tub. They take a moment to break down, but they make the bath wonderfully soft.” Marabell followed the dwarrowdam back into the bath. ”Make sure the water is nice and hot. Then scrub with the soap and used the oil and comb on your hair. Make sure to let it sit for a little while before washing it out. I expect to see you drying by the fire when I get back.” Dis moved towards the door. “Oh, and don’t open your door for anyone. I’ll let myself back in.”

Marabell frowned in confusion at that but said nothing. She set about getting the bath going. With the water running hot, she added in the bath salts and got undressed. This time she folded her clothes, setting them neatly to the side. Her sigh came out more as a moan as she slipped into the soothingly warm waters. Even though she had just bathed the night before, she could easily do this every day for the rest of her life and never get tired of it.

She did as instructed and tried not to laze around the bath for too long. All too soon the dwobbit found herself sitting before the fire working a comb through her knotted hair.

“Oh… Bell,” Dis’s awed gasp had her turning to see the other female by the doorway. “Your hair is stunning.”

Marabell’s cheeks heated at the compliment and her hands dropped back to her lap to fiddle with the comb. “Thank you.”

Dis glided over and pulled the comb from between her fingers before lifting a strand of her damp black locks. “It’s so fine. And soft! Oh, deary, you’ll be the envy of every dwarf in this mountain. Does it keep it’s wave when it’s dry? It does, doesn’t it. Just lovely.”

“You say that, but it’s a mess to take care of.” Marabell replied. Secretly she was pleased to have something the other dwarves might want. Those in the Shire had loved her hair as well, though it was never quite as curly as the others. Her mother loved to brush it when she was younger and told her to never cut it, that her hair was a precious thing and as much a part of herself as her fingers or toes.

Marabell knew from her mother’s teaching that dwarves valued their hair very highly. Bilba had always impressed the importance that she should understand both her heritages. That she didn’t have to pick one over the other. Bilba had then laughed and started the tale of the time she had cut her hair one evening during camp and how the Company had been near tears with shame and worry, thinking that they had done something grievously wrong for her to have done such a thing. Dwalin had almost broken Thorin’s nose, believing he had been the cause of her cutting her hair.

“Bell, dear? Is there something wrong?”

Dis’s concern brought her back. “Oh no. I was just remember something my mum said when it came to dwarves and hair.”

The dwarrowdam hummed. “A dwarf that does not keep his beard well kept, shames Mahal Himself.” Marabell’s hand moved to her smooth cheeks. “You are young yet. By dwarven standards you are still a child,” Dis continued when she felt the younger female tense. “I know better than to think such things. My point is that you may still come into your beard, or you may not. Either way if my idiot of a brother and the others in the Company thought your mother to be beautiful, I’m sure other dwarfs will as well.”

Marabell turned. “I’m not strange to them? I mean…” She turned away embarrassed. “The other gentlehobbits never took much of an interest in courting. Well there was this one, but he had only hoped to get his hand’s on my mother’s smial as my husband after she had passed.”

Dis began running the comb through her hair in long gentle strokes. “It’s important to remember that you are a Durin Princess. Though you will never sit on the throne, your children, should they be dwarven, will.” Dis’s hand dropped away when Marabell again turned to face her with her blue eyes wide. Dis only chuckled, turning her head back to where she wanted it. “You’re right. It is far too soon for such thoughts. You only just returned to us. For now let us get you dressed. I’m excited for you to meet my boys. I’m sure you three will become fast friends like they were with your mother.”

After combing out every strand of her hair, Dis carefully wrapped it into a loose coil and pinned it to the back of her head so she could get dressed. The dress the princess had brought for her was a rich blue, Durin’s colour, she explained. It had a black underskirt and short sleeves with a round neckline trimmed in fur. The dress was tight across her chest, which caused hers to be pushed up in the most appealing way. Dis simply smiled and said that most dwarrowdams were not as endowed as she was. Marabell marveled at the lace work on the dress, though not as flowery as other lace she was used to, it had its own effect and looked positively dwarven with its blocked out design.

“There.” Dis stepped back to admire her work. “We’ll need to pin it in at the waist a little bit, but it looks wonderful. Now, where are your boots? I should have thought to had them cleaned earlier.”

Marabell looked down at herself. “Isn’t this a little… formal for a birthday party?”

“Nonsense. It’s not a public event, but this will be your first time meeting much of the Company. It never hurts to make a good impression.” Taking the girls hands, Dis lead her back towards their chairs. She took a small wooden box out from her skirt pocket and pressed it into Marabell’s hands. “Normally it would be Thorin’s task as your father to present these to you and to braid them into your hair for the first time.” Dis opened the lid carefully to reveal several metal beads inside. “Some of these you will wear tonight, a few can wait if you wish for him to do it himself. Firstly,” She picked one out which was such a bright silver it could only be mithril. It was marked with a rune she had come to recognize as Durin. “This one, when braided here,” Dis carefully gathered the hair before her right ear. “Tells others that you are a Princess of the line of Durin. Along with this one,” This second one was a rich green which reminded Marabell of the stone of the mountain. “Stands for Erebor. They may also be braided into your beard, if you desired. Remember, the right side is your halls, the left your family.”

After braiding them in place Dis lovingly brushed her fingers along each. “Should you take a craft, that bead would also be on your right. One will be placed on your left should you wish to court someone… But we will discuss such things at another time, should you wish to.”

There was only a single bead left in the box. It was a mix of gold and mithril with a rune she didn’t recognize. “What’s that one for?” she asked.

Dis’s face was guarded. “It says you are a daughter of Thorin. If you like I can braid it in for you, or you may wish to save it for when Thorin can do it. Or, you can chose to not wear it. Now by doing that I will warn you that because everyone knows you are his daughter, by not wearing the bead you will show that you have renounced him as kin or that he has not acknowledged you as kin. It will depend on if he choses to do so tonight or not.”

Marabell thought that it was a lot of meaning for such a small little thing. When her mood had been dark and her mother unwell, she had often cursed her sire. Her mother always asked her not to do so, that it wasn’t his fault, that the ways of dwarves were hard and stubborn and that he had not been in his right mind when he had cast her out. That being the case, he had never come for her either. Now she knew this to be just a series of mix up and missed chances. That her mother could have come back and that they could have been a family.

 _‘You do not have to like them, little Bell. They are your family, even if you don’t chose to acknowledged them. But family is there for each other, even if they are at each others throats most of the time.’_ Her mother had told her that after a very spirited shouting match with her aunt Lobelia to which Marabell had only caught the tail end of but had the idea that it had to do with lace her mother had bought the day before which Lobelia had wanted for herself. She had thought her mother silly till about a week later when she opened the door to find Lobelia standing there in the drizzling rain, helping her mother up the stairs. Seemed her mum had tripped near Lobelia’s front gate and the other hobbit had come out to see her home. Lobelia had turned up her nose at their thank-yous and said that if they wanted to thank her, they could just give back her lace. Marabell had been ready to slam the door in the sny hobbit’s face but her mother had beaten her to it.

Marabell plucked the bead from the box and met Dis’s understanding eyes before holding it out to her.

 


	4. Chapter 4

“Who shit in your ale?”

Thorin turned his glare up from his cup to his old friend leaning against the pillar beside his chair, but didn’t answer him. After all these years Dwalin didn’t need him to tell him what was on his mind in that moment. He hadn’t been able to sleep and hadn’t heard a word during any of his council hearings that day. Fili had only just returned from the Iron Hills and Thorin hadn’t even been able to grant him a days rest on his own nameday.

“Would you have rather not have know?” Dwalin sighed, taking a drink from his own cup.

“Yes,” Thorin answered honestly. “And no. At least I know now that what I felt all those years back was her...” He drained the rest of his cup.

The warrior knew Thorin was talking about Bilba’s death. He had some understanding of how it felt from when his brother had lost his One. Had said that it wasn’t like a stab to the heart, but like your heart had gone missing and there was nothing but this big hole deep inside. The warrior had always been a little thankful he had never found his One. He never had to worry about his own life in protection of others or that he might cause someone he loved to feel like that should he perish.

Dwalin turned from his thoughts to see the doors open. Dis came in leading Marabell on her arm and his drink only made it half way to his lips.

He hadn’t taken the time on their first meeting to really look at her. She was a stunning little thing all done up in Durin blues with her new braids in her hair. The rest, by Mahal, had been left to fall in silken black waves down her back in a way that Bilba’s never had. Even from across the room the kohl Dis had used on her eyes made them pop like two perfect sapphire. Had Thorin not moved in his chair just then, Dwalin feared he might have continued to stare. Instead he turned, threw back the rest of his drink, grabbed Thorin’s mug from his loose fingers and moved off to get some more.

Dis was holding her arm tightly and whispering in Marabell’s ear as they stepped into the room. “Don’t worry. I’ll be here if you start to feel overwhelmed. It’s mostly the Company and their families, along with some of the council members and a few nobles we had no choice but to include.”

At first sweep of the room she noticed only a single familiar face. “Gimli!” Marabell smiled as the dwarf in question jumped. His full brown beard had been brushed out neatly, the thick braids of his mustache looked newly done and he was in cleaner clothes though he still wore his armor.

“Mistress, urg, I mean, Princess Marabell.” He bowed so quickly she feared he might fall over. Beside her Dis laughed and poor Gimli’s ears turned pink as he stuttered.

“Ah, Dis, leave off the poor boy.” An older dwarf pounded Gimli on the back with a grin. ”He’s been a mess since he found our lost princess here at the gates.”

“I have not,” Gimli pushed at the older dwarf off with a scowl.

Still grinning, the older dwarf bowed. “Gloin, son of Groin, at your service. Makes me glad that my son here was able to help you, lass. Hear the guards almost didn’t let you in.” He crossed his thick arms. “Shame to them, all here should know that Erebor welcomes all hobbits.”

Marabell’s eyes jumped between the pair. She wondered how she hadn’t remembered before. The name Gimli had been familiar but she hadn’t been able to place it. Both dwarfs shared the same big nose and thick brown beard. “Oh, forgive me, Master Gimli!” she fussed. “I should have recognized you at the gates.”

“Recognized _me_?”

She nodded. “Oh yes, mum spoke greatly of your father and how much he loved his family.” She turned to the older with a smile. “Said you have a beautiful wife. Will I be able to meet her?”

Gloin puffed up at the praise, though his eyes had a sadness to them. It seemed the others had been told about her mother’s passing. “Oh, ai. She’ll be about a bit later. She wanted her hair just so for the dinner. She has such beautiful hair. Just wait till you see it,” he added wistfully.

There was a tug on her arm as Dis pulled her attention. “Let me introduce you to a few of the ladies. They have been most curious. I will say that one is very much excited to meet you.” The princess smiled at Gloin and Gimli as she pulled Marabell away.

They had just turned when the pair was waylaid by a stern looking dwarf with a disapproving scowl. “Gruer, at your server.” He said the words but didn’t bow. With her arm once again looped through the other princess’s Marabell had felt the other female stiffen.

Gruer had a twiny graying beard done up in interconnecting pleats. Each was capped with silver and marked with his hall runes, though she had no idea what they stood for. His hair was just as intricate as his beard, criss crossing braids moved back from his face into a single thick one which trailed down his back.

His eyes were a clear brown and it wasn’t until she looked at the face beneath the hair that she realized that despite the gray, he was rather young looking for a dwarf - and really the scowl hadn’t helped.

“How fortunate for you to finally join us, princess. And so close to Durin’s Day. I hoped you had few problems getting in?”

Marabell put on her best party smile. “No, no trouble.”

“Good, that’s good. Lady Dis,” he bowed his head towards the other dwarf before moving on.

Dis let out a huff the moment he was out of earshot. “Be careful with Gruer,” she warned as she began to pull her along. “He’s on Thorin’s council and as many ties within the Stonefoots. Because of his influence his halls joined with Dain’s in the battle against the orcs. He’s a very powerful dwarf.”

“But you don’t like him,” stated the dwobbit.

“I don’t trust him. Like has nothing to do with it.”

She lead her towards a trio of dwarfs standing together closer to the table. Marabell felt a pair of eyes on her and followed the feeling across the hall to the far end of the room. Dis turned her suddenly before she could fully glimpse the figure sitting in the large stone chair. Even so it had been enough, her heart clenched in her chest. “Ignore him. I warned him that if he so much as speaks one word to you first, that I will have what’s left of his beard.”

Marabell frowned as she thought back to the day before in Balin’s office. She hadn’t noticed, and it had likely been why she had mistaken Dis for her brother had at, but the king’s beard was rather short. “But as the king, shouldn’t it be… well longer?”

Dis snickered into her hand before she could stop herself. “Yes well. I’m not so cruel of a sister to send his daughter after him asking him about the length of his beard. No, no. I see this is another lesson. There are only a small handful of reasons for one to cut ones hair when it is not done out of punishment. Mourning is the most common. Or a vow.” Dis slowed her steps. “When we first lost Erebor to the dragon, our people were lost. When we lost our grandfather, King Thror, followed quickly by our father… our people were shattered. It fell to my brother to rule and he vowed to cut his beard and keep it cut till he could restore our people and bring us home.”

“But he did that.”

Dis looked at her sadly. “He did. He was able to bring us home, but there was someone still missing.” They had reached the other dwarrowdams who turned to greet them, eyeing Marabell with rampant curiously as she returned the favor.

To her right was a stocky female with bright red hair and smiling brown eyes. She had only a few hairs on her chin but her sideburns ran down her chest in a long braid which she had looped at the ends. She introduced herself as Tanil, wife of Bombur and tailor by trade. Marabell couldn’t stop her eyes from lowering to the obvious roundness of the dwarf’s belly. When Tanil caught her eye she gave the other female a small secret smile.

The next Marabell would have mistaken for a male with her full black beard had it not been parted in such a way as to display the tops of her breasts which were nearly hidden beneath the heavy loops of golden jeweled necklaces. Her introduction was much cooler than Tanil’s had been, introducing herself as Vonna, daughter of Gartak. Her black hair had been braided in loops to join at the back of her head in a fashion that must have taken hours. It shone with jewels and golds. Marabell thought it quite pretty, but looked dreadfully uncomfortably heavy to wear.

“Vonna’s father is on the council,” Dis explained, her tone flat. It gave Marabell the impression that Dis didn’t much care for the other dwarf and she wondered if there was anyone on her brother’s council which the older female did like.

The last of the group had a sweet eager face and round nose. Soulful brown eyes watched her with clear excitement. Her fine brown beard had been gathered into two simple braids. Her hair had also been done simply, two braids pulled back to frame her face. She had no jewels and only the plainest of robes on. Even so there was just something about this younger female that made Marabell think she was simply cute.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you!” She grabbed up both of Marabell’s hands in her own. She had on a pair of soft warm mittens which looked lovingly made. Brown eyes scanning her face as she leaned in. “You have her nose. I always thought Bilba had such a tiny nose but she assured me it was quite normal for a hobbit.”

“Now, Ori, you know the princess it not a hobbit,” Vonna chimed in causing Ori to drop her hands and lower her eyes.

Which Marabell thought very rude but was still caught up trying to process the fact that Ori was in fact female, not a male. “But I thought…” Marabell looked between Ori and Dis who had a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Mum never mentioned...” She gestured at Ori.  

Ori wrung her hands together. “I wanted to tell her! But my brothers said not too. We couldn’t risk Thorin finding out.” She frowned, her big brown eyes watering. “I’m sorry about Bilba. I really wish…”

Dis reached out to the younger female. “None of that now. Tonight is as much a celebration to welcome Marabell as it is one for my son’s nameday.”

“Oh no!” Marabell turned to the princess. “No, no. It’s Fili’s party. Please, it would be rude for me to take from his special day.”

“Nonsense!” She grinned.

Across the hall Thorin was working on another mug of ale which Dwalin had shoved into his hands. Blessfully the drink had taken the edge off his thoughts and lessoned the sting of his heart. He was going to have to slow down before he lost himself completely to it. If he made the situation worse than he already had, Dis would tan his hide like a youngster.

His nephews finally entered the hall. Thorin frowned in disapproval. Kili was laughing as he pushed his brother through the doors. When Fili didn’t move fast enough for his brother’s liking, Kili grabbed hold of his arm and pulled.

Thorin’s frown deepened at such childishness from his heirs. They were no longer children, they had both come fully into their beards now, but it never failed the moment both his nephews were in the same room they turned into thirty year olds. He had hoped that by sending Fili to the Iron Hills for the last year they would have both matured some in their separation. Those two spent far too much time together.

“Do you see her?” Kili rapidly scanned the room. “Think she’s here already?”

“Likely. If you hadn’t had to try on every nice tunic you owned, we might have been here sooner when she first arrived.”

“It’s not my fault I want to look nice when we meet our new sister,” Kili’s grin was wide and excited as his eyes continued to jump about the room. “And you can’t be late for your own party, Fee.”

Fili gave his brother a fond smile before pushing him to the side just in time for him to run face first into a passing pillar. He snorted at the look on his younger brother’s face when he suddenly found himself on the floor.

“Fili!” Thorin barked from his chair and both princes instantly stiffened at the tone, their grins slipping away. “I moment if you will.”

Kili sent him a sympathetic frown as he pushed himself off the floor, straightening his clothes back out while his brother went off to speak with their uncle. He moved to follow but his brother signed behind his back for him to stay. Kili’s frown deepened at that before a light laugh pulled his attention towards a group of dwarrowdams in the corner. If anyone knew where their new sister was hiding it would be their mother.

Ori was the first to see his approach and smiled in that shy way she always did around him or his brother and said something in a low voice to his mother who in turned stepped back. Kili’s steps slowed when he saw the young dwarf standing behind her. The first thing he noticed were her large pale blue eyes, followed quickly by her dark wavy hair which brought his attention to her beads which, like his mother’s, marked her as a Princess of Erebor.

And to the bead braided on the left in such a way as to wrap around her small pointed ear that marked her as the daughter of Thorin and Bilba, their lost little hobbit. She was their new little sister.

Dis had a disapproving look on her face as he joined them. “Where have you two been hiding? Where’s Fili? And what happened to your head?”

Kili’s head slapped up against his forehead. It felt a little tender from his encounter with the wall but he was sure it was nothing. “Fili’s with Uncle,” he ignored her other questions in favor of looking over their newest companion. He gave her a sweeping bow. “Kili, at your service!”

Her smile had a touch of laughter in it still from whatever it was they had said to make her laugh before. As such she couldn’t help but to return his exaggerated bow with a deep curtsy of her own - bowing in a dress seemed a bit silly to her, though she knew a curtsy wasn’t very dwarfish of her. “Marabell, at yours. I’m so glad to finally get to meet the two of you. I’m afraid I have heard so many stories, I’m not sure just how much is true anymore.” She stepped a little closer. “Did you really trick my mum into going up against three trolls on her own?”

“She was only suppose to steal the ponies back! Not get herself caught,” the prince crossed his arms but couldn’t stop his grin.

She looked at him in mock horror. “I can’t believe you really did send an unarmed hobbit against three trolls. I always thought she had been exaggerating that part a little.”

Ori shook her head. “Oh no, she went up against three mountain trolls, she did. Completely fearless,” she added with admiration. “Isn't that right Fili? Fili?”

Marabell looked to Fili who had just slipped through the crowd to join them. The first thing she noticed were his warm brown eyes fixed on her and she smiled. Her mother had told her that Fili was the sun, while Kili the moon. She had never really understood what she had meant till she saw the brothers standing side by side just then. Kili had his mother’s dark hair and soft beard which had been gathered into a single braid. Her mother would have been happy to see it. Kili had had only the barest showings of the beard during the quest. The others had teased him endless for it. Mum had just said he was a late bloomer.

Fili on the other hand had hair the colour of sunwashed grass in autumn. It was thick and gathered about his shoulders like a mane. He had twin braids framing his mouth and like his brother had gathered his beard into a single braid capped with a golden clip. His hair was neat, pulled back from his face with several smaller braids about his temples.  

And her mother was right, they were both quite handsome. She flushed at the thought but was saved when Kili elbowed his brother and Fili bowed. “She did. Our Bilba always had a way of running head first into trouble.”

“Now, Prince Fili,” Vonna broke into the conversation. ”You have only just returned home. What tales do you bring back with you from our cousins in the Iron Hills, hmm?”

“Vonna,” Dis chided. “He’s only just come back, as you say. I’m sure he’s much more interested in what he has missed. Come, the two of you, I would speak.” Dis moved off towards an alcove near the back of the room. Kili and Fili lingered a moment before following. Fili casting a small smile in Marabell’s direction when he passed by.

Once the Durins were gone, Vonna moved off in a huff to find her father and Tanil left to sit by her husband for a time and get off her swollen feet.

Ori looked quite bewildered to have suddenly been left alone with Marabell, but ever the scholar was not about to pass up the chance to pepper her with questions. Marabell happily answered what she could while she countered back with her own about small things she had noticed and couldn’t help but feel the two of them were going to be fast friends.

“Oh, Ori do you have time tomorrow? I have something to give you.”

“Me? I’ll be in the archives most of the morning. We’re still working on restoring a lot of the text ruined by Smaug. Can I asked what it is? Or do I need to wait?”

Marabell laughed. “I think it will be more fun to wait. I’ll do my best to find you in the morning. I’m afraid without a guide I get quite lost. Also, please forgive me if I’m late. I have no idea how you tell the time without being able to see the sun. I fear I will be late for everything.”

Ori blinked in surprise. “Can you not feel it?” Marabell tilted her head at that so Ori rushed on. “Do you have your stone sense? No? Do you have some time tomorrow to talk more? I’m fascinated to find out more about… Um, what do you call yourself?”

“Mum always said I was a dwobbit. Or at least that’s what she called being half dwarf and half hobbit.”

“Dwobbit?” Ori smiled. “I like it. Then do you have some time to talk about being a dwobbit? I’d love to write it down. There is very little on half-breeds in our archives. I’ve come across a few involving humans but that’s about it.

“Sure, I’d be happy to answer more of your questions.”

“Would you look at you!”

Marabell turned to see Bofur’s grinning dimpled face and smiled widely in return.

“They turned you into a dwarf,” he cheeked and Marabell laughed.

She looked down at herself before flicking on of her braids. “It seems they did. But they can’t change all of me.” She pointed to her exposed ear.

“Oh, ai. Along with your smooth cheeks and them eyes of yours, no hiding your hobbit-y nature now is there.” He hooked his thumbs in his belt. “Have you managed to meet the rest of the Company now? I see you found our Ori here. Bet she was a bit of a surprise. The rest of us sure were shocked.” He winked at the Ori, causing her to blush shyly.

“Yes, I will admit I had been surprised. But let’s see, who am I missing…” She went over the company in her head. “Met Nori and the princes… Gloin… So I’m missing Dori, Oin and Bifur.”

Bofur grin suddenly dropped and his hand moved to tug on his mustache. “I guess it’s my turn to give sad news, huh? Sorry, Bell, but you’re a wee bit late it seems. We laid Bifur to rest with the ancestors nearly twelve years ago now. The old wound finally got to him.”

“Oh...” Marabell looked downcast. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“But my brother and Oin are sitting right over there,” Ori tugged at her arm to get her attention. “Why don’t you go say hello?”

The two gray haired dwarves were sitting together sharing a pot of tea when Ori brought her over.

Dori looked up from his cup with a kindly smile. “Now who have you got there, Ori? This wouldn’t happen to be our new Miss Baggins, how would it?”

“Baggins?” Oin turned at the mention of the name. He looked her up and down quickly before grunting and turning back to his cut. “That’s not Bilba. Thought you said she was a Baggins?”

“I did,” Dori assured. “She’s Miss Bilba’s daughter.”

“Her what?” Oin’s brows drew down. “She’s looking for water? Then why did Ori bring her here.”

With a fond sigh Bofur slipped into the seat across from Oin and quick made a series of gestures with his hands. Marabell knew this was Iglishmek and was happy to realize the she knew some of the signs Bofur was using.

“Bilba and Thorin’s daughter you say?” Oin turned his attention back to her. “Ah, I see it now.”

Ori leaned into her ear when Oin turned back to his cup, seeming to have lost interest. “Forgive him. He’s not quite the same anymore. Still the master of his craft by he drifts a lot in thought.”

Marabell didn’t get much of a chance to speak more before Dis and her sons came back into the room and everyone was called to take their seats. She hesitated as everyone moved around to their seemingly assigned places. Thankfully Kili and Fili found her.

Kili looped an arm across her shoulders and began directing her towards the head of the table where Thorin and their mother was currently sitting. “Looks like you’re stuck sitting with us,” Kili grinned.

As it was he was right. Thorin sat at his place at the end of the table. Dis sat on his left as his sister while Fili took the right as heir. Beside Dis sat Balin and Dwalin, while Marabell was seated between the princes. She refused to so much as look at the king and kept her eyes fixed on her plate as she sat ridgely in her chair.

Once everyone was seated the doors were opened and dinner was brought out. Marabell’s mouth watered at the sight. Large plates of boar meat dripping with juices and runny fat. Stewed chickens and peppered mutton along with boil potatoes and onions were set down. Meat pies and minced carrots. Baskets of crusty bread moved about the table. There was very little green, but Marabell didn’t mind. Large mugs with frothing ale was set before each guest. She had been living off cram for far longer than she would have liked and was eager to tuck in.

Thorin for his part had kept one eye on the servers and the other on his daughter. It was still a strange concept but his heart had swelled the moment she had taken her seat beside Fili and his eyes had caught sight of his bead tucked behind her ear. For all the wrong he had done her mother, Thorin vowed right then and there as Kili said something to finally make her smile, that he would do everything to make it up to her.

His brother’s punch from across Marabell’s seat had Fili coming back from his thoughts. “What’s gotten into you, Fee? You’ve been quiet tonight.”

He gave his brother a small smile. “Sorry, Kee. Just tried.” Marabell was watching his face, caught between their conversation as she was their chairs.

Thorin stood then, catching everyone’s attentions. “I thank you all for being with us tonight as we gather in honour of Fili, son of Vili, Prince of Erebor of the Line of Durin’s nameday feast.” He raised his cup. “ ** _Thadulur kuthu barufizu oshmâkha ra tûm fulz muneb meregizu._** May Mahal's hammer shield you in the coming years.”

“To Fili!” Shouted Bofur to be met but cheers of, ‘Prince Fili’ or ‘the prince’. It seemed everyone was waiting on him and only when Fili tipped back his ale did everyone else follow suit with a roar.

“Also,” Thorin’s deep voice rang out. “I’d like to formally welcome my daughter, Marabell, to Erebor.” A cheer rose again from the Company but Marabell had her eyes fixed sternly on her plate as her heart raced. She didn’t acknowledge the king as he sat back down, much to his disappointment and worry, turning his blue gaze to his sister’s for reassurance but wasn’t able to gain much from her expression before everyone began to eat.

Things moved quickly from there. Food moved around the table as each person helped themselves. She smiled when she caught Fili adding several heavy slices of spiced pig to her plate and in returned offered him the potatoes when they passed her way which he quickly made room on his plate for.

It turned out that Marabell’s eyes were far bigger than her stomach that night and soon enough she was slowing while everyone else continued to eat heartily. “When do we give the gifts?” she asked no one in particular.

“After the meal.”

“You got me a gift?”

Both Fili and Kili spoke at the same time.

She turned to Fili with a grin. “Of course I did. It’s your birthday. I wouldn't be a very good hobbit if I missed giving you a gift for your birthday.”

“When did you have time for a gift?” Dis asked curiously. “You've hardly been here longer than a day.”  

Marabell shifted under the weight of everyone’s eyes. “This morning, actually.”

“Made it all herself!” Bombur happily added from down the table, much to the surprise of all four Durins and Marabell blushed to realized that everyone now seemed to be listening in to their end of the table.

“May I have it now?” Fili asked eagerly, turning fully in his seat.

“I-” Marabell’s eyes jumped from Bombur’s to the princes. “I don’t see why not. It is your birthday after all. Just… not sure where it is currently.” She glanced around but hadn’t seen a gift table anywhere.

Bombur was speaking quickly to his brother. Bofur’s grin was wide as he jumped up from the table. “Yes, all right. The blue one.” The toymaker shot her a grin before heading away from the table.

Kili was nearly hoping in his seat. “I can’t believe you get a gift made by our new _Khazush_.”

“New what?” She looked to Fili who almost seemed to be almost glowing with happiness.

Balin chuckled. “Sister, lass. Seems you’ve gained yourself some brothers.”

She eyes jumped between the pair so quickly she feared she might get a kink in her neck. “You’d really have me? We’ve really only just met...”

“Yes!” Fili closed his mouth with a snap, almost appearing bashful at his own outburst.

Kili was nodding adamantly. “We’ve always wanted a little sister.” He threw his arm across the back of her chair and pulled her closer to sit against his side tucked under his arm. “You going to make me a gift for my nameday as well?”

“I don’t even know when your birthday is- Oh! Thank you, Bofur.”

With a flourish and a wide grin, the toymaker presented Marabell’s gift. The blue cookware was perfectly warm as she took it from Bofur’s gloved hands. She was happy to see the cooks had remembered her instructions from that morning. Fili’s eyes were wide as she set it on the table between them. She put a hand on the lid to remove it but didn’t right away. She chewed on her lip as her brows drew down in thought.

“If something wrong?” Dis asked with concern.

“No, just…” She glanced at Fili shyly. “A little bit nervous, is all. I’m just… Oh bugger it.” She removed the lid before she could second guess herself further.

It smelled heavenly. Rich and warm and like home. But it simply made Fili look uneasy and just a little bit green.

From the head of the table, Thorin frowned. “You baked him an apple pie?” Everyone around the table muttered to their partners, mostly in Khuzdul. It did nothing to settle the dwobbit’s heart at all.

Kili at her side let out a gust of air as he sent his brother a look. “That’s too bad, Fee. Can I have it then?”

Marabell drew the dish to the side away from the dwarf’s grabbing hands. “No you may not. And I’ll have you know it’s a Fili Cake.”

“A Fili Cake?” Ori chimed in curiously as both brothers perked up.

She fidgeted under so many eyes. Instead she focused on the warm feeling of the dish between her hands. “It’s just what I’ve always called it. It’s a caramel apple bread pudding. Mum liked to make it for me in the fall during the harvest. She said it was a recipe from her mum’s old cookbooks. She just made a few changes to it. I think I was about eight when she first made it and I refused to eat it. I don’t remember why.” She smiled softly at the memory. “She said that I had to try it, only one bite. Said that is was so delicious that it would even make Fili like apples again. So I did and she was right,” she laughed lightly. “Next harvest I asked her to make the Fili cake again and the name just kind of stuck.”

There was silence when she finished. Then warm arms were drawing her into a solid chest. Fili pressed her so close that she could almost feel his heart. He turned his face into her hair as he drew a watery breath. “Thank you.” He was pulling back almost as quickly as he had hugged her. Tears had tracked their way down his cheeks into his beard and she wasn’t surprised then to find her own tears.

It was when Balin sniffed into his own sleeve that she turned to see watery eyes throughout the Company. Kili beside her stood, holding his drink high. “To our burglar.” Marabell looked around as one by one the others stood.

“To Underhill!” Threw in Nori.

“The Luck-Wearer,” added Bofur.

“To the Ring-Winner,” this from Ori.

“Dragon-Riddler,” from Bofur again.

“Barrel-Rider,” Kili and Fili lifted their cups.

All eyes turned towards the king at their head. He turned his eyes slowly from one face to the next, then raised his cup higher. “To Bilba.” At that they drank.

 


	5. Chapter 5

After the toast their drinks were refilled. Music started back up from the corner of the room as most of the guests broke away from their tables. Thorin, Dis and Balin rose to join with a few other nobles while Dwalin headed off towards the casks of ale. Fili had stayed even after his uncle had asked him to join them to discuss business. He had his hands around his bread pudding staring at it with wide eyes. Kili had found a spoon and was now brandishing it as a weapon as he tried to get the first bite from his brother. It was Dwalin who cuffed the dark haired prince over the back of his head before taking the spoon and giving it to Fili then put a new cup down in front of Marabell before moving on.

Ori had shifted seats to be closer to the young Durin trio and leaned over the table, addressing Fili while studying the dessert. “Well? How is it?”

“Mmm,” Dori stopped at the back of his sister’s chair. “It smells wonderful.”

“I thought it tasted good- hey!” Bofur straightened his hat after his brother nearly knocked it off. “I couldn’t help it! She was working so hard on it and it would have been horrible if it didn’t work out right, and...” He trailed off under his brother’s continued stare.

Bomfur waved towards Fili’s spoon. “Well, go on. She did spend all morning working in the kitchens to make it for you. You need to at least try a bite.”

“Please,” Marabell’s soft voice had Fili pausing again, the spoon hanging between the dish and his slightly open mouth. “Don’t feel pressured into liking it.” She fidgeted. “I know it would mean a lot to her if you did enjoy it, but she would have hated it if you did so just to be polite and well I just would rather you be honest and all if-”

“Mara-” Fili started but then seemed to think better of it. Instead he put the ladened spoon in his mouth. To her delightly, his brown eyes lit up with that first bite and she knew he liked it, even before he said so. “It’s good,” he laughed. “I forgot how much I used to love apples,” he added before taking another bite.

“I’m glad! I mean- I’m happy you do. It was the best I could do on such short notice and all and I know how much everyone cared for my mum and I thought it was worth a shot and all... I was just worried you’d feel forced to like it cause it came from her and everyone seemed to be making such a big deal out of it and all-”

“Ai, lass, but such a thing is a big deal among us dwarves,” Balin spoke, cutting into her ramblings. He’d come up beside the blond prince. She hadn’t noticed his or Dis’s return. “Who it came from is only part of it.”

She looked around as the others nodded. Fili was working his way slowly through the bread pudding, steadily ignoring his brother’s begging puppy eyes as he enjoyed each mouthful.

The princess slipped into Thorin’s abandoned seat at the end of the table. “It’s because you crafted it with him in mind which makes it so special,” Dis elaborated. “It’s one thing for you to make something and give it away. Another to make something for someone. You’ve really only been here a day, yet you spent your first morning here making something for a dwarf you barely know and yet you put so much love into the gift.” Her dark eyes softened as she looked upon her son, eyes crinkling around the corners when she noticed he had more than a few crumbs in his beard for someone who was normally such a clean eater.

“I… well I-” Marabell looked down at her hands with a frown. “All my life all I ever heard from my mother were stories about all of you. I think I can recite the whole journey off the top of my head. I used to dream about what each of you would like and had nightmares of dragons and pale white monsters,” several members of the company flinched at the mention of Azog. “Maybe that’s a little unfair. You don’t know me. You didn’t even… You didn’t even know I existed.”

She caught Bofur sending a sharp glare over his shoulder towards their king. She felt a small bloom of fondness for the hatted dwarf for his eagerness to defend her and her mother.

“Then why not tell us?” Dori had somehow gotten his hands on a cup a tea and settled himself beside his sister.

Ori nodded, pulling a small notebook from the inside of her robes along with a stick of graphite. “What was it like growing up in the Shire? Was it difficult? Did you meet many other dwarves?”

Marabell waved a hand at all the questions. “It took a while to get used to the Shire at first. It was so different from living in Rivendell.”

“What?” A cry went up from most present save for Balin, and Dis, who already knew she had been born amongst the elves. Even Fili lowered his spoon for a moment.

“Well… Mum was coming across the Misty Mountains when she realized she was with me and by the time she and Gandalf reached Rivendell she was too far along to continue. She had me there and we didn’t move to the Shire till I about seven.”

Ori was quickly writing away in her small notebook. “So when’s your nameday, Miss Bell? How old are you now?” she asked as an afterthought.  

“Well, I was born in the early stirring months. The fourth of Solmath. Currently I’m thirty-six. Not hard to remember since it’s the same amount of years since you reclaimed the mountain.” Fili’s spoon clicked against the side of the dish and she turned to see him looking slightly pale. “What is it?” She frowned.

“Still just a babe,” Dori gasped with widened eyes.

Marabell’s mouth opened into a slight O before she pushed herself to her feet. “Now see here,” she brandished a finger. “I know where this is going. Dwarves mature a lot different from hobbits, but I’m not a dwarf. I’m grown. I own land and manage my own money. I could get married if I wish.” Balin frown at the idea while Kili and Fili suddenly looked like they had swallowed their tongues. She put her hands on her hips. “I’ve been on my own for years now, thank you very much. I won’t have you lot treating me like a fauntling just because I’m a bit young by your standards.”

Gloin grumbled, “You’re not exactly a hobbit either.” But stuck his nose back into his drink when she glared at him. The look was so much Bilba’s, but the ice of her eyes was all Thorin.

“That may be, though Uncle Elrond says-”

“ _Uncle?_ That elf?” sneered Thorin having come back to the table.

She felt her blood rise and the desire to knock that hard look off the kings face. One would think that after all the years their distaste for elves would have lessened. As far as she knew they were on good terms with Mirkwood and Lord Elrond had aided them during their quest. Marabell was rising from her seat and pushing back from the table, her eyes never leaving the king’s glowering face. “Yes, _that elf_ , as you put it is my uncle-”

“What right does he have-”

“Because _he was there for us_. He was the one who soothed my scraped knees when I was learning to walk. He taught me my letters. Because _he was there_. Where were you?” she hissed coolly.

Thorin looked startled briefly before he managed to smooth out his face. It did not help to ease the guilt and pain in his eyes however. Marabell wished she hadn’t noticed. It was hard to hold onto her anger and bitter disappointment when she knew he was hurting. She bit her lip and was the first to turn away, heaving in a great breath of air to help calm her tears away.

Thorin knew he had spoken rashly the moment he had opened his mouth. Bilba had often been the victim of his thoughtless words but she had never stayed angry at him for long. He knew in this instance that he was going to have to be the one to broach the topic of peace between them. So far they had proven that neither of them could be in the same room for very long without coming to words. He eyed her tight fists and wouldn’t have been surprised if her dwarven blood led her to strike him. Mahal knows he has it coming.

He did not need to look around to know that everyone was watching them. After all these years as king he could feel the judgment in his eyes. Marabell’s unexpected arrival had been the topic of great discussion among the people of Erebor. Most believed that Bilba had spirited away with another dwarf’s child without his knowledge which was why she had never returned or that he had rejected her and the child since it would be of mixed birth. Their burglar was held in mix regard by most of the nobility. Those who had been there during the Battle of Five Armies had no doubt as to the smaller creature’s loyalty. Those who had come after had only unbelievable tales and rumors to go on.

Nori had already brought his attention to a growing number of dwarves who believed her claim as Thorin’s kin to be false. With there being so much bad blood between them it would only be a matter of time before it was brought to the courts as an official matter. They needed to talk. Even if they could not mend the path between them, they might be able to at least be at peace with each others presence.

Thorin swiftly turned, his heavy cloak swaying about him. “Come we me.” He didn’t wait to see if she followed. He feared that she might not. Mostly he didn’t want her or the others to see how lost he was. He had never been the diplomate and knew he put his foot in his mouth more often than not but for his Bilba he would do his best.

He moved towards the doorway tucked close to the fire hidden out of sight behind a pillar which leads to a smaller adjoined room. The room was warmer than the hall, heated by the center hearth. It was octagon in shape with detailed carved murals on each wall-face and a domed ceiling. A ring of padded benches circled the fire. Thorin dropped heavily onto one, resting his elbows on his knees as he gazed heavily into the fire.

“Did you have something you want to say?”

Thorin started and looked up to find his daughter seated across from him. She wasn’t quick enough to hide her satisfied smirk for having startled him. She had likely done it on purpose.

“I think we both have things to say,” he stated mournfully. “And I’d rather they be said here than before the whole of the kingdom.”

Marabell waved a hand towards the door. “That’s hardly all of Erebor.”

Thorin just shook his head. “By this time tomorrow everything said will be repeated at least a dozen times. Already most are aware of our… harsh treat of one another. I would not have this continue.”

“So you want me to leave then?” Her tone was utterly flat as she said this and it cuts at him sharply. “I don’t have to stay,” and with this he begins to hear her anger resurface. “I don’t want to cause you _problems_. I didn’t come here to be a burden. I only came because mum wished it, but she never said I had to stay.” She doesn’t add that she would like to be able to stay. That already she would miss Dis and Bombur and Bofur dearly only after a single day. That she wants to become better friends with Ori and to get to know her new brothers better.

And a tiny, tiny part of her wants to get to know the dwarf her mother fell in love with and died for.

There is a small fond smile on the king’s face when she lifts her attention from the flames between them and a haunted look in his eyes like he’s seeing something else - someone else - other than her. It causes her to come around the fire and she drops to the bench to his left. She’s closer, but there is still that measured distance between them. “You never came,” she starts.

With a heavy sigh he answers, “I thought it what she wanted.”

“Because she didn’t answer your messages?” He nods. “But why didn’t you come? I thought dwarves were supposed to be stubborn? Just because she didn’t answer a couple ravens you thought she didn’t want to see you ever again?”

He has the decency to look shamefaced at this. “After what I… After what happened-”

“You mean after you _tossed her_ off the top of the gates?” she cuts in bitterly and he cringes but he doesn’t deny it. A heavy silence settles in the room, weighted with haunted memories. Thorin can hear the sounds of battle echoing within the stone like a ghostly whisper. He hears Bilba’s desperate screams for him as Azog bears down on him with his bloodied mace held high.

“The others had planned to travel to the Shire to bring her back, however Gandalf told us that it would be a wasted journey because we would find no welcome there,” Thorin speaks to the flames though he feels her eyes. “He had a letter to Balin saying that she didn’t want her share of the gold and nothing else. Had I known the truth behind the wizards words…” He growled to himself with a shake of the head.

“You would have came to get her but you thought… and she thought...” Marabell slumped. “Oh bugger it all.” Her ran her hands back through her hair, tugging at her braids. She jumped to her feet with the need to be moving and paces because it helps to keep her grounded in the moment and helps to drive back the bitter pain that this whole thing had to be some cruel twisted joke because her mother had wasted away waiting for him while he had sat in his mountain mourning because he had thought she didn’t want to see him.

When her pacing lead her back towards the door she continued right through it. Everyone’s eyes were instantly on her as she made a beeline for the ale. Nori was leaning up against the barrel with a filled mug in his hand. He wordlessly held it out to her and she swiped it from his fingers to drain it quickly. “Another,” she held the cup back out. The thief raised an eye at the request but refilled her cup anyways. She downed half of the second cup before thinking better of it. The music was still playing and though unfamiliar, it seemed the players had been trying to lift the mood of the room with a more upbeat tune.

Dropping her cup onto the table as she grabbed for Ori. “Dance with me.” She pulled on her mittened hands.

“D-dance?!” the dwarf stuttered, her whole face flushing red. “But I don’t-”

Marabell already had her moving towards a more open area near the fire. “Then I’ll show you.”

Balin stood next to his brother and watched as the young princess helped Ori to dance. Their scribe was hesitant and stiff beside Marabell’s twirling form but soon enough Ori relaxed and allowed herself to smile freely. He tried not to give his brother’s sudden intake of breath too much thought.

Thorin moved along the edges of the hall, his eye on the pair. Soon Kili was pulling at his brother to join them while Bofur had taken out his clarinet to join the band. He was not surprised by the guarded expressions of the dwarves on the council. A few looked downright hostile muttering about knife-eared merriment unbecoming of a Erebor princess. The old dwarf fought back a frown, trying to keep his face impassive while he filed their names in the back of his mind in case they had need of them. He knew Marabell already had a black mark against her for her birth. It did not help that there were those who believed her to be false. It would up to Thorin to help dispel most of those rumors, however he knew their little Bell was going to have to prove herself to not just their king, but to the whole of Erebor if she wished to find a home among the dwarves.

He hoped she would be up for the task.

At some point in their dancing Marabell found herself with Fili’s hands within hers as their legs kicked out. His grin was wide and joyest and she laughed freely. Spying a certain hatted dwarf playing off near the corner, she broke away from the prince with a twirl.

“Bofur! Come dance.”

He gave her a dimpled smile. “Think not, lass. Don’t know how and I’d be more likely to stomp on your toes in these big old boots of mine.”

“Nonsense.” She reached for her skirts, lifting them just high enough for the dwarf to get a peek at her boots. “Shoes, remember?” She leaned in and took his hands, giving them a tug.

The toymaker tried to resist but then she gave him that sweet little look and her lips pushed into a pout and he just couldn’t. Mahal forgive him now but he knew himself lost when she turned as they headed towards where the others were dancing, her long black hair falling back across her shoulders and met his eyes before turning to look ahead, her hand in his.

As they joined, Fili broke apart to speak with Thorin. Bofur ended up twirling Ori about, very aware of both her protective brother’s stares. Kili had lifted Marabell from the ground, causing the dwobbit to squeal with a bright giggle.

When the music began to die down, the group moved off towards the tables sweaty and in need of a drink.

For Marabell the rest of the night was mostly a blur. There were bits and pieces she could recall. Her and Ori had ended up shoulder to shoulder giggling over something she couldn’t remember. Bofur told a few rather crude jokes which had most of the room laughing. At some point when Fili joined them again, taking the king’s seat at the head of the table. The others began to then tell embarrassing stories about the prince while he opened his other gifts.

Marabell quite enjoyed the way his fair skin flushed. That particular story earned Kili a rather painful looking punch to the arm.

In the morning, she assumed it was morning, Marabell woke up naked in the sheets again with someone pounding far too loudly at her bedroom door. The sound matched the beating behind her poor eyes and she groaned, turning over to bury her head under a pillow.

“Come on, Bell! We’ll miss breakfast.”

Whoever it was could come back later. Right now she just wanted to sleep. If she was asleep the pounding would stop. But it didn’t. The knocking at the door continued till suddenly there was a pause followed by a quick warning, “I’m opening the door.”

It was Kili.

Suddenly she was sitting up in the overly large bed shouting for him to close the door. Which he did. He was just kind of on the wrong side of it when he did so and he had this wide eyed panic look as his eyes locked onto her naked shoulders and she was screaming with the sheets pulled up over her chest for him to leave but then he wasn’t moving fast enough and was hit square in the face with one of her pillows.

Dis laughed at the end of Marabell’s account of her morning wake up before giving her younger son a half-hearted chastising look. “You should know better than to enter a ladie’s room unannounced.”

“Well I told her I was coming in,” he grumbled, shoving another thick slice of bacon into his mouth.

“I think, Kili,” Thorin leveled the younger dwarf with a hard look. “It would be best if you didn’t enter any female’s room without an invitation.” Kili flushed and turned all his attention to finishing what was on his plate so he could leave as soon as possible.

The small dining room was part of the King’s royal suites which, to Marabell’s surprise, had been across the hallway and a door over from her own. She hadn’t given much thought as to who else had the other rooms but it turned out that Kili’s and Dis’s were on either side of her own while Fili had the room across the hall. Like her own, the king’s door had opened into a sitting area, though far larger than hers and more heavily decorated in stone and a center hearth. To the right had been an open archway to the cozy dining room made solely for the royal family. The left had been the door to his study. Marabell had caught a glimpse of it through the open door. Straight through was a large set of double doors she assumed went to his bedroom.

“You have training with Dwalin this morning,” Thorin added as he wiped his mouth, eyes fixed on the younger prince.

“But I was going to give Bell a tour of the mountain!” Kili protested.

“What?” Marabell looked up at the mention of her name. “I promised to meet Ori in the library this morning.”

Thorin nodded at this. “Then it seems you are free to train after all, Kili. Fili, when you are finished I’d like you to join me in my study.” He pushed back from the table and quickly left.

Dis tisked lightly, her eyes softening as she looked on her fairer son. “Fili, if you’d like more time to rest-”

“It’s fine, mother.” Fili kept his eyes lowered as he pushed his plate back and rose. Leaning down he pressed his forehead to hers. “I’ll see you at dinner,” he said before leaving to follow in Thorin’s wake.

There was a clink as Kili rested his fork down on the edge of his plate. “Something is off with Fili,” he remarked with a worried frown.

“What makes you say that?” Dis asked concerned. She had long since come to terms with the strange bond her children had. She had often thought them to be twins in spirit with the way the were able to read each other’s moods so well.

Kili was frowning down at his plate. He shook his head. “He’s just… not himself. Something must have happened in the Iron Hills.” He rose from his chair. “I better be going as well.”

Marabell watched the darker prince go with a curious tilt to her head. “Dis, did something happen to Kili last night?”

The older female turned. “Hmm? Not that I know of. Why do you ask?”

“Kili was limping a little. Thought maybe he fell or something. I don’t remember too much of the evening after dancing I’m afraid,” she added bashfully, taking a large sip of water to help ease her aching head. Already the food had settled her rolling tummy. She’d have to remember to go a little easier on dwarven drink in the future. It had nothing on elven wine, but it was still much stronger than her tolerance could handle.

Dis’s expression turned from curious to somber, her eyes haunted. “An old injury now. It’s more noticeable first thing in the morning or if he’s been sitting for too long.” She forced a small smile. “Tell me, what business do you have this morning with young Ori?”

“I have a book my mum wanted me to give her for safe keeping. Though I’m going to need a bit of help finding the library. Nori was teaching me some of the rune markers to help get around but I’m afraid its going to take me a while longer yet.”

Dis chuckled at this. “Do you get lost often?”

Marabell pursed her lips. “Not _all_ the time… Just this place is huge.”

The princess did laugh at that. “Is that the reason?” She wondered what the young dwobbit’s reaction would be if she told her she was just like Thorin. That for the first several years in the mountain her brother was getting lost constantly and was late for everything because of it. It had been his order - after Balin’s suggestion -  that the rune markers be carved in the first place. He argued that it was to help those new to the mountain settle in quicker. Many of the dwarves new to Erebor had never lived inside a mountain before and found it difficult to navigate.

“Since I have nothing pressing this morning, I can take you. Maybe along the way I can teach you a few more runes for you to use,” Dis offered. It would be important for Marabell to learn Khuzdul. Dis had no doubt that the dwobbit’s knowledge of their secret language was sorely lacking. She had no idea how much of it Bilba had picked up during her time with the Company and of how much she might have passed on. She was going to need to speak to Balin about it.

Dis waited in her own rooms for Marabell to get what she needed from hers. When the younger female returned she was dressed in a pair of tight fitting leggings, a long tunic and vest. Dis gave the outfit little mind, her attention focused on the messy braids in her long black hair. With a fond sigh she had Marabell sit down so that she could redo them. “You need to take care with your hair,” she childed. “For now I will be more than happy to do them for you. I miss being able to do my sons’ hair. It was all too soon before they were braiding each other’s.”

Marabell felt warmed by the idea. She had missed her mother sorely and even this small action was helping to ease that pain. She tried not to lean into the other’s touch has she carefully parted and reordered her hair. Her mum had never done more than brush it or tie it back for her.

She felt the princess’s hands still before she spoke, “I had been meaning to ask you something. Strictly between us that is,” she started delicately. “I’m sure you are aware that a dwarf isn’t considered an adult until the age of eighty. I assume this is different in hobbits.”

“Thirty-three,” Marabell answered, not sure if she was comfortable where this was going.

Dis nodded. “So by hobbit standard you are an adult, by ours you are a child, but since you were raised among hobbits you consider yourself an adult, correct?” She felt Marabell stiffen and ready a protest but she simply gave the braid she was holding a small tug to still it. “I am not my brother and the other’s might not have noticed…” Dis’s quick fingers finished the braid and she moved to sit before the dwobbit, taking her hands. “You are quite beautiful. Different, but no less pleasing and there were a few who noticed during last night’s events and I’m sure more will follow. I had thought to wait on discussing this, however I fear it’s best to do it now. I do not know how things are done among hobbits, so I worry over your experience with such attention.”

Marabell flushed.

Dis continued on patently. “What did you mother tell your about dwarven courtship?”

“Just that her and my… father missed quite a few steps in their courting. Mostly the courting part,” she added ruthfully. “They didn’t get a lot of time to… discuss things before…” She trailed off, the rest going without saying.

“I feared as much.” She gave her hands a squeeze before releasing them. “We will have a lot of discuss then. For now, be careful. I fear we dwarves are nothing if not passionate and we do not take courting lightly. An offer to court is as good as a marriage proposal. Since you see yourself as an adult, we will treat you as such and allow others to do the same.” She smiled then, reaching out and pulling her in till their foreheads met just as she had seen Fili do earlier. “Take care of yourself. I see you as the daughter I never had. So not only will those who hurt you have to worry about the Company coming down on them, they also have to worry about me.” The smile she gave was positively predatory.

Feeling both embarrassed and heartfully grateful, Marabell smiled at the older female. “I’ll make sure to remind anyone who crosses the line,” she laughed lightly.

Dis sombered. “If a male so much as touches you without your consent, you tell me.” To this the dwobbit could only nod.

As they headed towards the library, Dis continued the lessons Nori had started, though she didn’t take them in circles as the spy had. They parted ways at a grand looking doorway.

Marabell had always had the same love for knowledge that her mother had had. When she pushed opened the doors she found her ultimate paradise. Her mouth fell open as her grip on the wrapped tome in her hands tightened.

Everything about Erebor was large and grand. For a people the size of dwarves and hobbits, they did nothing small and every piece of work was a masterpiece in its own right. The room was open but had been carved into spiralling tiers supported by fat columns carved with shelves each filled with neatly order books. The sheer number of tomes she could see just from the entrance was amazing. She would be able to spend days looking through them and not even see half of what they currently had. It put the library at Rivendell to shame.

A dwarf stepped out from around a column of books to greet her. He bowed, “Harvo, at your service, princess. Is there something you need?”

Marabell brought her eyes down from one of the upper levels to look at the dwarf. He had graying brown hair done back with no less than five braids. Two of which joined into his beard. She briefly eyed the beads at the right side of his face though had no idea what any of them stood for.  “I’m looking for Ori.”

At the mention of the name the dwarf’s lips thinned. “I’m sure I will be of better service to you, princess.”

“Ah, no thank you. Ori is expecting me.”

Harvo hawed over that but bowed, leading the way through the maze of shelves to a smaller section one level up filled with writing desks. Ori sat behind one with ink stains on her hands, her sleeves rolled up to her elbows. She grinned brightly when she noticed Marabell. Though that smile quickly tempered when she noted the other dwarf’s presence.

“Thank you for your help,” Marabell thanked him, hoping he would take his leave of them. He did, but only after a hard look towards the other dwarf. When she thought him far enough out of hearing and Ori had set aside her inks she commented, “He doesn’t care for you much, does he?”

“Ah, not as such,” she said glumly. “But he treats me fair enough. Is that for me?” Ori’s smile returned upon sight of the wrapped package in her arms.

The dwarf slide down the bench to make enough room for Marabell to join her. The dwobbit set the package between them and unwrapped the protective covers. Ori’s eyes widened at the red leather bound tome inside. She reached to run a finger over the golden script on its cover but pulled back her ink stained fingers. “There and back again. A hobbit’s tale but Bilba Baggins,” she read with wonder, turning shining eyes towards Marabell. “You’re giving this to me?”

Marabell nodded. “It was her wish for you to have it. I’ve read it already and the others are welcome to do so also. It’s her account of the journey up until we returned to the Shire.”

“I- oh, thank you! But are you sure? Something this precious should really stay with you,” she argued, her hands still hovering over the book but unwilling to touch it till she had cleaned her hands.

Marabell looked over the book fondly. “In a way it is. She considered all of you family. So just make sure you take good care of it.”

She was suddenly engulfed in a massive hug. “I will! I promise.” There was a sniffle. “I’ll read it right away and if it’s alright I’ll make a copy so the others can read it and won't have to worry about damaging the original.”

Marabell smiled as she eased back from the embrace. “That sounds wonderful, and Ori, she wanted you to have it.”

“Oh, just-” Ori hugged her again and gave her a watery smile. “It just means so much to know she didn’t hate us.”

“She never blamed any of you for what happened and if anything she worried you might have hated her for what she did to help keep you safe.”

Ori shook her head, standing her braids flying. “Oh no. At the time it hurt and we were confused by it all and it happened so fast, but we knew she’d never betray us.”

From there their conversation turned to what Ori had been doing. It turned out she had been helping to restore older texts. Many had been lost while Smaug had been in the mountain but many more had been damaged due to time and lack of care. When she wasn’t working in the library she apprenticed with Balin as a scribe, drafting legal documents and contacts.

It turned out Harvo’s dislike for the younger dwarf stemmed from her quick rise to fame. Although many respected the Company for winning back their home, there were still those from older lines who found some of their rise distasteful. In Harvo's case he had hoped his son would be able to apprentice under Balin and felt it wasted on Ori.

They chatted till they grew too hungry and Ori pulled out her lunch to share between them. Marabell felt that instant connection she had felt for the other female grow even further into a powerful friendship. She felt a kinsmanship with the dwarf which she had never felt before. Soon enough Ori was taking notes about various things as they talked and Marabell somehow ended up with a small notebook filled with hastily drawn runes with both their common and Khuzdul meanings written below to help her navigate around on her own.

She would have likely missed dinner as well had Dori not come to collect his sister. They kindly helped her back to her rooms before taking their leave.  

 


	6. Chapter 6

The next few days passed in a blur. In the morning she ate with the Durins, doing her best to avoid Thorin’s gaze. Since their talk during Fili’s birthday party they had come to some sort of truce and the air was no longer as heavy as it was between them but it was still awkward. She saw little of Fili, his time being taken with his official duties as heir and although Kili was sometime forced to attend those functions, he seemed to have a lot more free time than his brother.

Not that she saw him either. Though he promised daily to show her around, something always seemed to come up be it training or patrols. One evening he helped host a small evoy of elves, seeming to be one of the few within the mountain openly friendly with their woodland neighbours.  

That day she was using the rune book Ori had given her to find the kitchens when Nori appeared in her path when a grim face. “I think you better come with me.” He was already leading the way back down the hall she had just come down. With a pensive frown she jogged to catch up.

“Wait. What’s going on?”

Nori growled something low under his breath that had likely been Khuzdul, reaching back to grab her arm. “Just hurry.”

Fili stood on his uncles right side as he listened to yet another nobledwarf’s grievances. He was only half listening and he hoped his uncle didn’t call on him to help deal with this one. His mind was far away from the throne room and its ever presence audience and to be honest he really couldn’t bring himself to care about the dwarf’s petty problems.

He had his own to deal with.

There was a shout of alarm even before the chamber doors banged open. Fili’s hands moved for his blades, standing just a little bit taller, but his posture eased at the sight of the tall, grey clad figure striding into the room.

“Tell me you’ve heard word!” he shouted as he marched across the space towards the high backed throne, his voice harried and near panicke, his hair blown wild. Fili wondered what had become of his hat.

Thorin tensed and scowled. “Gandalf, what is the meaning of this?”

“There had been an attack on the Shire,” the wizard answered gravely. He slowed to stand just before the dais.

Fili stepped forward, “What?!”

The old man leaned heavily on his staff. “Tell me they’ve already contact you?” he begged. The sheer fear in his voice sent Fili’s pulse jumping.

“No. Gandalf what is going on?” demanded Thorin. He stood, his higher position allowing them to look down upon the man.

The wizard turned, his robes fanning out and paced before the King Under the Mountain, his staff echoing hollowly in the large chamber. “I lost their path crossing the Misty Mountains. I fear what has happened.”

Thorin’s face darkened. “Wizard, you speak in tongues.”

Gandalf whirled. “Tell me, Thorin, what would you give to save the life of your own daughter?”

Both dwarves startled. “Something happened to Mara?” Fili looked also stricken. He shot his uncle an unreadable look before turning back towards Gandalf.  

The wizard sharply turned to the golden heir. “How do you know that name?” he whispered, his brows lowering in thought and confusion.

“Gandalf?”

The wizard froze with wide eyes. Slowly he turned towards the light voice for fear that he had been mistaken. To his relief he had not been. His old heart eased at the sight of Marabell Baggins standing next to Nori just within the archway of the adjoining hall with confused frown on her round face. Her blue eyes flicked between him and the Durins as she stepped into the room. “What are you going here?”

Clasping both hands around his staff, he allowed himself to rest his weight on it with a heavy sigh. “Looking for you, my dear.”

She canted her head at that but smiled sweetly and come forward to embrace him. “I have missed you, Gandalf. It’s been too long.”

He nodded. “On this, my dear, I agree.” He hadn’t meant to stay away for so long. However time had a way of slipping by when he needed it most. It hadn’t been the first time he had blinked to see those he held dear suddenly grown old.  

“Gandalf,” came Thorin’s warning growl behind him. Fili had come down from the dais towards the pair. When Marabell stepped back, the prince placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder which had her frowning at his obvious concern.

The grey wizard looked around at his companions. It was clear that they were well aware of who the dwobbit was and that she had been here for a time already. “If Marabell is here, than I fear they have taken the wrong hobbit,” he voiced.

Marabell jumped, “Taken a hobbit? Who? What’s happened, Gandalf?”

“Gandalf says there has been an attack on the Shire,” Fili filled in grimly. She felt his fingers flex against her back where his hand laid.

“Gandalf, is this true?” She turned back to the wizard.

“I fear it is quite true, my dear. But maybe we should continue such discussion in private,” he eyed the growing crowd of dwarves around them.

Thorin looked less than pleased but lead the way towards the smaller audience chamber he used when dealing with more private matters. He instructed the guards to allow only his sister or the Company entry before directing the others inside.

Marabell found herself leaning into Fili’s comforting side as they shared a bench. The blond dwarf had his arm across her shoulders and she was thankful for it. “What happened, Gandalf? Did someone really attack the Shire?” She feared for the people there. Her family and friends. The hobbits had no defence against an attack. If someone had managed to get passed the rangers then it would be a slaughter. It was bad enough during the winters when the river froze enough to allow the wolves to run rampant through the hills, but now someone had purposely entered the Shire and taken a hobbit captive?

The wizard was grim as he slumped down onto a bench by the fire. “I fear there has been.” He waited as the other settled down before he continued. Nori leaned close to the door as Thorin took one of the larger chairs for himself. Gandalf's sharp eyes narrowed in on Fili for just a moment, taking note of the gentle care he showed his newly discovered cousin nestled against his side. “I was traveling near Bree when I heard there had been riders inquiring about a hobbit by the name of Baggins. Seems they were looking for a black haired Baggins who lived in Bag End. By the time I arrived at the Shire… I’m afraid that Bag End was no more than a charred hole and I am told that several hobbits had been taken from it. The rest of the Shire was so shaken by the events I could barely get anything more from them than that. They said you were gone, that they had taken the last Baggins from Bag End. I fear I did not linger to inquire further.”

“Oh no,” Marabell lowered her hands away from her mouth. Her eyes wet with threatening tears. “Frodo.”

“Frodo?” asked Fili.

She nodded rapidly. “I gave Bag End to him. Lobelia has been on me to give it to her son, Lotho, for years. She said I wasn’t a…” she swallowed. “A proper enough hobbit or Baggins to keep it. But after all the years of them trying to get their greedy little hands on it, I couldn’t just leave it empty. I knew they’d move in the moment I stepped foot from the Shire after mum was gone and since Frodo didn’t have a place of his own…”

Gandalf lowered his head. “Frodo... Drogo and Primula’s boy?” She nodded. “I thought he was living with some of the Brandybucks. He wouldn’t even be of age yet.”

Marabell wiped at her face. “He was and he isn’t. Not for another few years yet but it had been mum’s idea that it should go to him if I decided to leave. She had it arranged with the Thain.” She sniffled. “Who would want to take Frodo? He’s never even been outside the Shire before.”

“I’m afraid, my dear, that those who took him might have mistaken the boy for you.”

“Me?” she squawked. “But wh-…” She trailed off.

She knew why. She was a Durin princess after all and the only child of Erebor’s current king. They would be able to ask for her weight or more in gold and it would mean little to the kingdom’s wealth. “But how did they know about me? I never told anyone about,” she waved her hand. “All this.”

“Are you sure? You have spoken of your lineage to no one?”

She opened her mouth, then snapped it closed. “Frodo and Sam knew. The Thain did as well. I told Frodo before I left as it had only seemed fair  and so he would know where to find me in case he needed to. I didn’t know Sam was in the garden at the time and overheard. But they wouldn’t tell anyone!” she hurried on. “Neither one. I made them promise.”

Gandalf hummed over this. Nori was the one to speak. “Maybe they broke their word,” he said darkly. It was a beardless dwarf who broke their oath.

The wizard held up his hand. “No. No that is not it. If it were so then neither of them would have been taken. No, there is something more happening here.” He rose from his seat. His old eyes softened as he looked upon her face. “Do not leave this mountain. I will return when I have learned more.”

“Wait!” She jumped up after Gandalf. “We have to find Frodo and the others. They’re in this because of me. We have to help them.”

For a moment Thorin thought he was seeing a ghost. Her stance, the up turn of her chin and determined set of her eyes made her look so much like his Bilba. That wonderful, brave and stubborn hobbit. He could see it clearly, his daughter would not sit idly on this. “You’ll not leave this mountain,” he affirmed.  

The door opened and both Dwalin and Balin stepped in just as the young dwobbit turned on him and he flinched at the pain he found in her eyes. “I’ll go. They are in trouble because of me, I have to help. You have no right to give me orders. You are not my king.” There was a collective intake of breath from the room.

How often had he traded these same words with another hobbit with each argument ending the same way. However this time he did have the right. This time he wouldn’t bow out of the fight. He would not see his daughter run off with the wizard on some fool’s errand so quickly after finding her. “I am not only your king, but your father. Leave this to the wizard.” He would not lose her before he even got a chance to get to know her.

A small part of him had expected her to back down and cow to his words. But this was Bilba’s daughter and she’d never done anything he had asked for either.

“You can’t stop me,” she seethed.

He couldn’t stop the small smirk which lifted the corner of his lip. “Dwalin.” The large warrior stepped forward in answer.

“Enough,” Gandalf moved between Thorin and Marabell, sending a hardened look towards Dwalin. The wizard gripped the dwobbit’s shoulders firmly, but gently, lowering himself to better meet her eyes. “Stay here for now. I fear the Misty Mountains are no place for dwarves or hobbits. I will return once I know of what has become of your friends.” To Thorin he said, “I fear the goblins within the mountain have become far bolder in the years since the loss of their king. Or that they may be answering to someone else’s call now.” He stood to his full height. “There have been a growing number of attacks and even the elven roads have become treacherous through the hills.”

Fili had a thoughtful look on his face. “Mara, how was your trip through the mountains? They didn’t give you any trouble, did they?”

Unexpectedly she flitched at the question, the fingers on her left hand twitching and her eyes lowered from his. She jumped when the wizard’s hands returned. “What happened when you passed through the mountains?” he asked with a firm, soft voice, his eyes searching hers. His gaze widened and dropped to his right hand upon her left shoulder feeling the jump of her muscles beneath his palm. He tightened that hand and heard her intake of breath. “You were attacked.”

“What?” Thorin pushed the wizard aside but Marabell stepped away from his reaching hands.

“It’s fine,” she reassured and flinched when she bumped into Balin behind her.

The older dwarf placed a warm comforting hand on her arm. “Easy now, lass.”

Gandalf was grim. “You did not make the journey alone.” It wasn’t quite a question and Marabell hated how it made her feel like a fauntling.

“No, of course not,” she snipped, feeling put on the spot. It hadn’t been her fault they hadn’t noticed the goblins hiding up the ravine when they entered the pass. She had just been lucky that they hadn’t been deeper within the mountains when they had attacked. ”I may be able to fight if necessary but it would have been foolish to come all this way by myself.”

Scowling, Thorin crossed his arms. “Then who did you come here with?” As far as he knew she had arrived at the gates alone.

“Uncle Elrond arranged an escort for me from Bree over the mountains where Beorn met us on the other side and King Thranduil’s elves brought me from Mirkwood to Dale.”

“That is a lot to arrange for a little Shire dwobbit,” Gandalf cheeked causing Marabell to suddenly look like a ruffled cat.

“Now see here, Gandalf, you know very well that mum had it all arranged long before she passed.” She placed her hands on her hips. “The moment I asked uncle for help making the trip he had letters sent out to the rest.”

“But you got hurt,” Fili quietly pointed out.

“You should not have trusted the elves,” Thorin scolded. “You should have asked us to come and get you.”

The wizard saw Marabell’s anger flare and stepped in again. “That is neither here, nor there. She is here now, and here she shall remain till I return.” The dwarves stepped back and he turned gently to the dwobbit. “I will find your friends, fear not. Wait for my return.” Not one for goodbyes, Gandalf swept from the room.

A moment later Kili slipped in through the still open doorway, “Uncle? What’s going on?” He took in the tense air of the room and was forced aside as Marabell run passed. “Bell?”

“Mara, wait!” Fili jogged after the dwobbit, catching the edge of the door in passing to close it behind him.

Kili stared at it in confusion. “What happened?” he asked again.

Balin ran his hand down his white forked beard with a heavy sigh. “Seems there was an attack on the Shire. Several hobbits were taken.”

Kili went wide eyed before his face darkened with anger. “Who would dare do such a thing?” He just as quickly jumped towards concern. “She’s not going to go back is she? Uncle, she just got here! She can’t leave.”

“Relax,” Balin urged, his eyes jumping from the young prince to his king. Thorin stood with his back to the room, hand resting over the mantle of the fire. “What do you want to do?” he asked his king.

Thorin turned his head slightly. The fire shone off his dark mane and cast his eyes into shadows. “Make sure she doesn’t leave. I think that is all we can do for now.”

Nori pushed himself off the wall, coming over to drop down into one of the empty chairs. “What about the gobins?”

“Goblins?” Kili perked.

The spy continued on. “We should send scouts out to take a look. You know that there has been growing talk about retaking Khazad-dûm.”

“Foolishness,” Thorin snapped. “We don’t yet have the numbers to fill Erebor and they would have us reclaim another kingdom? Let them talk.”

“Ah, but if the goblins have become desperate as the wizard says, then maybe their numbers have indeed grown weaker since we slayed their king,” added Balin thoughtfully. “It might be a far simpler matter to retake the kingdom now than when it was last attempted.”  

“Or they have simply grown uncontrollable as Gandalf fears as well,” Thorin countered.

Dwalin snorted. “Since when have you cared for what that wizard has ever said.”

“Since he handed me the key and the map to our home!” he roared up. “I may not trust him as I should but his words should not be so easily dismissed and I have not given so much to my people as to see them throw it all away. We will wait to hear what he says. For now,” he turned to his spymaster. “Try to stem these talks. Direct the people’s attention elsewhere.”

“Like to your daughter?” Nori smirked.

Thorin froze and blinked dumbly, caught off guard by his reply.

Nori laughed. “What else do you think they are talking about? Moria and Marabell.”

“They’re talking about Bell?” Kili asked. “What are they saying?”

“Oh, this and that. Mostly they wonder what you are going to do with her,” Nori gave his king a raised brow.

Thorin’s own drew down. “What do you mean?”

“I believe,” Balin stepped forward. “They wonder when you are going to officially present her to your subjects and what this will mean for the line of succession.”

Kili sat down next to Nori with a frown. “But Fili’s heir. Bell can’t hold the throne since she’s female.”

“Well yes,” Balin answered the prince. “But should she have any male children - dwarven children - of her own then they would be in line for the throne over you or your brother.”

Nori leaned back in his chair. “That’s if they accept the mix blood. It works in Marabell’s favor that she looks as dwarven as she does, besides the ear and lack of beard that is.” Balin nodded sagely at this. Their young princess had been lucky to take after her father more than her mother. Truly without the pointed ears she was simply a shapely, beardless young lass.

Kili looked around the room. The older dwarves seemed to have reached an understanding but he had no idea about what. It was not the first time. The twist and turns of politics had never been his thing. He had never been good at seeing the consequences of his actions before he acted on them. Within the court everything he did or said was twisted and changed. And yet… he would learn. He may not like it but his brother bore the burden without complaint. Now their sister would be pulled into it. It was time for him to do the same.

* * *

She was very quick when she wanted to be. It took a bit for Fili to be able to catch up to her. “Mara, wait.”

“Just... leave me alone, Fili.” She sent him a pleading look a she continued down the stairs.

“No, just wait-” He sighed. “You’re heading towards the mines.”

That stopped her with a small confused frown. She had thought she had been heading towards the kitchens. If she hadn’t been in such a hurry to get away and clear her head she might have taken out her rune book but she hadn’t.

She felt Fili’s warm hand slip into her’s and give a light tug. “Come on, this way.” He turned them back up the stairs.

“This place is one giant maze…” she grumbled and he chuckled lightly.

“I thought so at first as well. It’s much larger than our home in Ered Luin was. In a way I miss it.” He met her eyes briefly. “It was cold and we had little but it somehow felt more like home.”

“You were born there too, weren’t you?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No. Mom had me on the road. Kili was born there though. However we did grow up there together. Maybe that’s why it still feel more like home, there are a lot of memories there. What about you? Do you miss the Shire?”

“No. I always felt… disappointed with it,” she confused. “I was born in Rivendell but it wasn’t my home. Everything was so big. From the elves to the buildings and furnishings. Even the stairs! All I remember was feeling small.” She smiled wistfully. “Then mum would take me to sit by the water and tell me all about the Shire and Bag End. I would beg for her to take me there right away but it wasn’t until I was older that I learned that she hadn’t been well enough to travel and what was why we stayed so long.” Beside her Fili slowed. “She had a hard time having me, I was a bit big for a hobbit baby, and she had also taken a nasty blow to the head during the battle which had left her with horrible headaches.”

They had come upon a door. Marabell had no idea where they were, the hallway unfamiliar and the door unmarked save for the merial carved into the stone above it. She stared at it, not quite knowing what it was about. Fili dropped her hand - she hadn’t even realized they had still been holding hands that whole time - and braced himself as he pulled back on the stone slab. It was slow and heavy to get started but easily swung open and flooded the hallway with blinding sunshine. She blinked, shielding her eyes as he gestured for her to go first with a charming grin.

She stepped out into the crisp autumn air, taking a deep breath to fill her lungs. She felt instantly alive and wondered how she had been able to spend so many days within the mountain without feeling the sun on her skin. Turning her face to the light, her body melted under its relaxing warmth.

Fili moved a rock to block the doorway and to keep it from closing. He’d hate for it to shut. Without the key and the last moon of autumn they would have to walk all the way around to the front gates. Uncle would have his head for taking her outside after he’d strictly forbidden it but he knew what it felt like to be smothered. He hadn’t been kidding when he said that he missed Ered Luin, if nothing more than to be able to walk out under the open sky.

Not that he would ever admit that to another dwarf.  

Lifting his head he felt his breath leave him. With her face upturned to the sun, the light brought out the small freckles along her nose and pinked her cheeks. Her hair had a blue-silver shine in the sun and her skin glowed. Years of life in the sunny Shire had given it a warmth lacking among many of his pale skinned kin. She turned then, her face breaking into a smile as her eyes, the same blue as the unbroken sky behind her, laughed. “What’s with the rock?”

“Hmm? Oh,” his eyes darted back towards the door. “In case it closed. You’d laugh but it’s happened a few times and I’d rather not have to hike all the way around to the gates if I don’t have to.”

She moved towards the edge, fearless of the dizzying height. “We’re at the hidden door,” she breathed, turning sharply to take it all in.

Fili nodded, settling himself down on the ledge to let his feet hang over. “I come out here when I need a break from all that,” he waved back towards the mountain, then patted the stone beside himself.

She carefully joined him, though her heart hammered. The view was breath taking. The hills around Erebor rolled on and on. From this side they couldn’t see Dale or the lake. Just rocky hills and golden fields going on forever. The sun had long since bleached the grass and what few trees clung to life among the rocks had already lost their leaves. “Feels like we’re the only ones in the whole world from up here.”

“It does, doesn’t it?”

She turned only to find Fili watching her with a warm unreadable look which stirred her heart. His hair was the same colour as the sea of grasses below. The twin braids of his mustache were capped in gold and carved with the rune of Durin. “Fili?”

He blinked before smiling, though she did not miss the way it failed to reach his eyes. “What are you going to do? About your friend, I mean, from the Shire,” he asked, kicking his feet slightly.

“I’m not sure there is much that I can do besides wait like Gandalf suggested,” she worried, biting her bottom lip. “I can’t help but worry what they might do to Frodo if- What if they’ve already figured out they got the wrong hobbit? It’s hard not knowing....”

He nodded to that. “What happened to you - if you don’t mind me asking - when you came over the mountains?”

She touched her left shoulder. “There were goblins hiding over the path. I was riding with four others but we didn’t see them. The sun was in our eyes and the first arrow caught me in the back. They were swarming everywhere after that. I also managed to take an axe to that same arm.” She flexed it slowly, curling it up before letting it fall limply to her lap. ”Would have bled to death right there had we not been so close to Rivendell still. One of my companions threw me over the front of his horse and just ran. Only one other guard made it back.”

Fili reached over, pulling her left arm to him. She wore no armor like the others. No thick leathers or furs. Just her long sleeved tunic and vest. His exploratory hand was warm through the fabric as he carefully turned her arm. “Does it still bother you?”

Her eyes jumped from his hands to his concerned face. “No so much anymore. I was lucky I didn’t lose it. Uncle wouldn’t let me leave till he was sure he had been able to fix most of the lasting damage.” She pulled her arm slowly from his grasp before nicking the blade she had in her boot. It was thin bladed with a simple spiral hilt and rounded pommel. She rolled it between her fingers on her left hand, before flicking the knife into the air to catch it. “See, it’s still good-” On the second toss the blade slipped from her fingers and fell down into the open sky. She gave a disappointed frown. “Stupid wind.”

Fili chuckled. “It can be quite windy up here,” he said with a smirk. He laughed outright when she gave him a small playful push and he dropped his arm over her shoulders to pull her against his side. “We can go down and get it, if you like?”

“Forget it,” she grumped. “It’s gone.”


	7. Chapter 7

She stared down into the bottom of her pack with a somber expression, her lips pressed in a tight line. Her few clothes had long since been washed and put away in the bedroom dresser. The few items that remained had been kept safe and hidden, tucked into a corner behind an overly padding chair. She hadn’t meant to neglect them. Really she should have gotten to them far sooner. But a small part of her wanted to wait a bit longer, to hold onto them a little while longer yet.

After all they were the reason she had come here in the first place. Her mother’s last request. Once she finished with them she would be free of her obligation to stay. She could go wherever she wanted. Continue to Rohan. Maybe return to Rivendell to visit her adoptive uncle.

Or she could stay.

But it was not that simple. The sheer thought of everything that would come with staying in Erebor almost made her want to leave on its own. She had been raised a simple hobbit, not a dwarven princess. But… this was the first time in so far her short life she had felt even the similance of home. If she did stay for good there would be new responsibilities, not just to her family, but to the whole kingdom. A kingdom which was still as strange to her as she was to it.

Be that as it may, she still have no idea how it was that she came to be standing in front of a towering mohawked, tattooed warrior in the area of sand. When she’d bumped into Kili in the hallway that evening she had hoped she’d be able to talk with him in private for a moment but she was all too quickly pulled along through the twisting hallways down deeper into the mountain.

Dwalin tightened his grip on his axe a moment before he struck. Marabell jumped back, her heels catching the sand and sending her onto her butt, much to Kili’s amusement.

“I thought ya could fight,” the warrior said in disappointment.

She pushed herself back up. “I can,” she huffed as she shook sand from her clothes.

“Well then?” Dwalin lowered his stance.

She held out her arms. “Well I’m not exactly armed, am I?” She hadn’t thought to grab her sword when she had left the room briefly to talk to her dark haired brother. If she had known this was where she would have ended up she’d have made sure she had it. Since she had lost her boot knife that afternoon she was officially unarmed.

Dwalin cursed something low. “You should never go unarmed!”

She crossed her arms and easily stared him down. “Well I hadn’t planned on being dragged halfway through the entire mountain,” she sent Kili a look to which he meekly smiled. The prince sat a small distance away from several other young dwarves who had been waiting for their turn in the sand with the hardened warrior when Kili had brought her in through the doors.

“She can use mine, Dwalin.” Kili threw his sword down into the sand at her feet. She looked at it with a sigh and knelt down to pick it up.

“Stop.” His sharp command froze her in place. “Since you’ve decided to be unarmed. You will fight me unarmed.”

“You’re joking right?” From where she knelt looking up he appeared even more intimidating. Not that she was scared of him. Not as such. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her but his axe did look mighty sharp and she really didn’t want to get to know it any better.

In response the warrior shifted his weight a second before launching forward.

Marabell quickly threw a handful of sand into his face, rolled to the right and was sitting on the ledge of the area by the time Dwalin came to a sputtering stop. He spit, rubbing at his eyes and muttered darkly in Khuzdul while Kili laughed. Marabell grinned even if she did feel a little bad for the dirty tactic. Grabbing a water skin, she jumped back into the sand and pretended not to notice when the large dwarf started when she touched his elbow. He gratefully took the skin and began to flush out his eyes.

“Coward.”

Sitting center most on the bench looked to be the oldest of the young trainees. He had the dark shadows of new growth on his chin and cheeks. Already his sideburns were thick with dark brown hair. His fellow dwarves were giving her matching distasteful looks while Kili glared, his fists clenched. “You dare to call my sister a coward?!”

The younger youth grinned with far too many teeth to be friendly, looking more than eager for a fight. “Yeah, I do.”

Kili jumped a little when Marabell put her small hand on his arm and he reluctantly stood down, allowing her to step forward. “What part of that made me a coward?”

He squared his shoulders and looked down his round nose at her. Which she found a little funny since he was just slightly shorter than her. “You ran. A true dwarf never runs.” The others around him nodded in agreeance.

“So what would you have done?” she asked.

“Fight him, of course.”

She nodded at this. “With what?”

“With these.” He proudly held up his fists. Marabell looked towards Kili. The prince was snickering and she couldn’t stifle her own laugh. “What’s so funny?” he growled.

“You’d fight an armed opponent twice your size with your fists? You’d die, simple as that.”

“It would be an honorable death,” he argued. “At least I wouldn’t run away like a coward.”

She tilted her head, regarding him with a raised brow. “So you’re calling your king a coward?”

He looked started by her accusation. “Never!”

“But he’s run from battle a dozen times,” she pointed out looking to Kili. He nodded slowly, unsure as to where she was going with that. “So if running from battle makes you a coward, than your king is a coward.”

“Watch what you say!” The younger dwarf took a hard step forward, the others moving at his back.

She crossed her arms. “What? So you’d have rather he stand up against an orc pack knowing he’s completely outmatched, then escape? Saving the lives of those following him I might add. And being able to live to reclaim this mountain.” He opened his mouth to retort, only to close it again, his face beginning to go purple with his mounting frustration. She continued, “And he didn’t exactly face down the dragon either. I think there was a fair bit more running away than running towards.” She looked to Kili.

“Lots of running,” he agreed.

“Enough,” Dwalin called out before the young dwarf decided to do something rush. The lad looked ready enough to hit her and he really didn’t want to have to explain that to Thorin if he did. “Bell, get down here.”

She gave him a pout, but did as he asked. Apparently she had thought she’d escaped her impromptu lesson. Since Kili had brought her with him for his training, Dwalin was going to make sure she trained as well. If for no other reason than to test her strength and skill.

“Pick up the sword.” He didn’t want to get another face full of sand if he left her unarmed. “Come at me when you’re ready.” He stood relaxed near the center, his axe resting against his shoulder, head turned slightly away.

Marabell glanced towards the benches. The others had taken their seats again but were muttering lowly as they eyed her. No doubt talking about her in some unflattering means. Kili sat apart with an eager expression. He flashed her a smile when he met her eyes. “Come on, Bell, show us what ya got!”

She felt the weight of Kili’s sword in her hand, moving from her left to her right. It was heavier than she was used to. Mind you she also fought with an eleven blade, not that she’d say so opening to any of the dwarves here. It had been a gift from her uncle, made to be the perfect length and weight for her to wield. Kili’s sword was good on its length at least. She gave it an experimental swing and ignored how Dwalin was watching her from the corner of his eye.

Unused to being the aggressor, she felt awkward making the first move. As she had mentioned she knew how to fight when needed but never sought one out that couldn’t be avoiding. Even still her opponent usually attacked first. The fact that he was larger and stronger than her meant little. Most things she fought were. She knew where her strengths lied.

She felt the sand beneath her boots and dug in her heels. Then she jumped forward.

Dwalin was almost a second too late to block her attack. She was fast and quick on her feet. He could feel her hesitation though, she didn’t want to hurt him. Not like she could. After his next swing went wide and she ducked under his axe he struck out with a fist. Surprised, the blow caught her in the lower back and sent her to the sand. She managed to turn into the fall at the last moment, rolling quickly back to her feet. She stayed out of his reach then. Without any armour padding she had no desire to take any more hits.

From the stands Kili watched proudly. His sister was quick, but it was to be expected. Her mother had been fast as well. She moved fluidly around Dwalin’s attack. She hadn’t managed to hit him but after the first blow she had taken, hadn’t received any more either.

Kili hadn’t meant to for her to join him for his evening practice that day but when he had found her in the hallway just outside his door he had looped an arm through hers and off they had gone. He was happy now that he had. He and Fili had been slightly nervous about her wandering the mountain on her own. They knew she had to have some sort of skill with the sword since she carried one on her most of the times but they hadn’t been sure. Seeing now that she was indeed a decent fighter would make it easier for both of them.

The prince glanced towards the other dwarves. Bonar, the oldest of the group, loved to prove himself the best. It was likely why Dwalin tended to have Kili train when the younger dwarf was present as well. It was good to remind Bonar that he was by no means the greatest fighter in Erebor. He was decent but many were better. He looked sullen now while a few of the others had a more respective expression on their faces as they regarded Marabell in the ring below.

“Enough,” Dwalin barked, lowing his axe.

Marabell was breathing heavily, sweat slicking her brow as she headed up the stairs back up into the benches. She dropped down next to Kili in a huff, handing him back his sword in the process. “This was not how I wanted to spend my evening.” She rolled her left shoulder. It had been a while since she had stretched it out and she was regretting not having warmed up first before fighting.

“You did great. I’m impressed.” He kindly handed her his water skin. Already Dwalin was calling another down onto the sand. He lowered his voice as he leaned in, “You wanted to talk to me about something?” he asked low enough so that the others would not be able to hear. When she nodded around taking another mouthful of water he took her hand. If he left quick enough he might be able to get away before Dwalin noticed him gone.

It was lucky that Marabell was too tired to offer much protest as he shouldered her bag and pulled her up through the benches towards the door. Once in the hallway he slowed. “What did you want to talk about?” he asked. It was starting to grow late. There would be few others around the training grounds to interrupt them. He walked her over to a low cut out in the wall which served as a sitting area. He handed her back her bag as they sat down.

He looked at it as if really noticing it for the first time. “You weren’t thinking of leaving, were you?”

She smiled at his worried expression. “No, just has a few things in it… It’s the reason I wanted to talk to you. I tried Fili’s room but no one answered. I wanted to do it all together but maybe it’s a bit better this way.” He watched curiously as she dug through her bag. From the bottom she pulled out a small wrapped bundle with two palm sized boxes. Marabell quickly peeked into one, making sure Kili wasn’t able to see before selecting the other. She returned the first back into her bag.

Marabell took a deep breath. Her hand smoothed over the clean lacker of the lid. She met the prince’s eye. “This was left by my mother for you,” she said simply.

“For me? Bilba left…” His eyes widened and swarmed from happiness to sadness before finding a place near the middle of both. He swallowed and held out his hands.

She pressed the box into his fingers and watched as he opened his gift. His face turned wistful as he pulled out the small wooden bead nestled inside and he looked at it in wonder. Marabell smiled softly. “She hoped that you might be able to wear it in your beard. Said she’d always known it would be just as impressive as your uncle's.” And it was just as thick and black as Thorin’s, just without the length yet. Kili’s eyes watered but there was more. “It’s wood, carved from ironbark which is rare but found near the rivers if one knows where to look, so its as strong as any metal.”

He looked at it in wonder. “What do the runes mean?” he asked with a sniff.

Marabell held out her hand. Kili carefully passed her the bead. “It’s in hobbitish.” She laughed at his surprised expression. “You think we hobbits don’t have a few secrets of our own? It says, ‘strong of heart, brightest spirit’. I know it’s not how dwarves do things,” she passed it back. “But for hobbits its more of a talaman. She always said you were the brightest amongst all the Company. She worried about you and your brother. She didn’t want either of you to lose hope. So she wanted to give you something to remember her by and to remind you that you have more strength in you than you realize.”

The tears were running down his cheeks freely. He brushed at his eyes to clear them. “Did Fili get one too?”

She shook her head. “No, this was something she wanted you to have.” Marabell knew that this was important also. The brothers had shared so much growing up that it was important for them to have something just for themselves. “Did you want me to put it in for you? I mean… we’re family and I’m not very good yet. Dis is teaching me, and you can always redo it later…”

His smile brightened his entire face. “Would you?” He handed her the bead back and lifted his chin a little. “However you think is best.”

Marabell smiled nervously, removing the golden clasp that held the braid in his short beard together. She didn’t do anything fancy, simply added it into the center-most strand at the end before putting the clasp back in place. She smiled as he lifted the braid to examine it. Even next to the gold, the warm wood of his new hobbit bead looked just as wonderful.

Dropping it he hugged her to his chest. “Kili!” She pushed at him but he only hugged her tighter. She laughed despite herself. “Let me breath!”

He did let go, but only to take her face between his hands and press his forehead to hers. “Thank you, _namad_.” She flushed at that. His grin continued as he sat back, his eyes catching sight of her bag. “Can we give Fili his?” he asked eagerly.

“I don’t see why not. Though you’ll have to leave the room until I’m done.”

“What? Why’s that?” He looked putout and pouted.

Marabell shouldered her bag. “Just have to, is all,” she answered vaguely. It had been part of her mother’s request also. Marabell knew it was so that each member could grieve in their own ways. It was the least she could give them.

 


	8. Chapter 8

When there was no answer at Fili’s door, Marabell thought it best to turn in for the night despite Kili’s insistent pleas to continue their search for their missing brother. But Marabell was too tired. It had been a long and drawn out day. It could wait till morning. All she wanted right now was to curl up in her sheets and disappear for a little while in sleep.

Of course it wouldn’t be that easy.

Laying in the darkened room her thoughts came alive and her fear for her captured cousin took hold again. She hoped that Gandalf would be able to find him and the others in time. She could never forgive herself should something happen to them. She knew too that she could never show her face in the Shire again. That was if she ever decided to return and they didn’t drive her out first for being the cause of the attack in the first place.

Not like there was much for her to return to anyways. Bag End was… gone. It was strange to think of it as such. It had always been there, even as some vague idea, long before she had ever come to live there. Now it was just gone.

Her mother would be weeping. She had loved that hole in the ground so much. It had been as much a part of herself as any. It was this thought that left Marabell weeping into her pillow till sleep finally claimed her some hours later.

Thorin was not blind to the darkened rings under his daughter’s eyes the following morning. Though he wasn’t sure what to do about them. He knew she was upset about the attack the Shire and her missing kin, but feared broaching the subject with her. They had managed to keep a steady peace between them and he feared damaging it further than he already might have. He would stand by his order, however. She was not to leave the mountain till the wizard returned. It was for her own safety.  

Luckily Thorin was saved from his damema when there was a knock at his door followed quickly by Dwalin. The look his old friend gave him told him he was needed and with a sigh he rose from the table. “Fili, take your brother with you to this morning’s meeting. I’ll join you soon.”

“Yes, uncle.” Beside him Kili groaned a bit, muttering about morning council meetings. Fili kicked him under the table.

Thorin nodded. Bidding his sister goodbye he tried to catch Marabell’s eye but she steadfastly refused to look up from her plate. So with a sigh he turned and followed Dwalin from the room.

Dis quickly excused herself from the table as Fili and Kili started up a quick exchange in Khuzdul. Marabell was sure they weren’t doing it to exclude her from the conversation, simply the pair was too caught up in their rapid exchange to realize they had switched over. She jumped a little when Kili was suddenly address her.

“So where are you off to today, Bell?”

Kili’s expression was bright for being so early in the morning. Fili on the other hand looked at her with a mild concern. She gave them both a small smile as she stood from her seat. “I was going to see Balin today. They’re a few things I’d like to talk to him about.”

“Do you need help finding his office?” This from Fili.

Marabell shook her head. “No, I should be fine. Thank you though. Both of you take care today. I’ll see you later.” She didn’t give them much time other than to shout their own goodbyes as she headed for the door. She made a quick stop at her room to grab her pack and the rune book before setting off again.

She quickly realized that while the book helped her read the runes she came across, it wasn’t exactly a map. Meaning she had no idea which way to go to find Balin’s office. Let alone which section it would be found in. When she came to a crossroads marked by a rune which read ‘southern workshops’, she figured it was time to ask someone to point her in the right direction.

She ignored the curious looks of the dwarves who passed by. Likely on their way to their trades. She still fidgeted under some of their more pointed stairs. Their added mutterings in Khuzdul didn’t help either.

It didn’t take her long to find a guard. His expression was less than friendly as she approached though quickly shifted to something a little more neutral, moving to stand just a little bit taller, once he noted her braids. The reaction made Marabell hesitate a moment before finishing her approach.

She had expected the harshness of his tone but he was kind enough. Going so far as to escort her to Balin’s office himself. On the way she made careful note of where they were but knew without a map it would likely be useless. It was going to take her years to learn her way around this place.

Balin’s warm voice called through the door when she knocked. He looked up from his desk with a warm, though mildly surprised smile. “Now what can I do for you, lass?”

She closed the door behind herself and found herself hovering in the middle of the room. She hadn’t spent much time with the elderly dwarf and in a strange way he made her feel a bit nervous.

He smiled kindly seeing her fidget in a way that reminded him of Bilba. “Why don’t we sit down by the fire?” he suggested as he came around his desk.

“I’m sorry if you’re busy. I didn’t mean to interrupt if I did. I can come back.”

“Nonsense. The papers aren’t about to walk off my desk anytime soon. They can wait. Sit now, lass. You obviously came here with a purpose in mind.”

Marabell lowered herself into the padded chair across from Balin, her bag tucked in her lap. She wasn’t sure where to start. It had been easy with Ori and Kili. Maybe she was just overthinking it but it was different since she came empty handed this time.

She knew he was waiting on her. Licking her lips and stared at her hands. “I know I told you that I came here on mum’s request?” He nodded. “Well a part of it was that she left each of you something when she passed.”

Balin’s brows jumped up. “She did?”

Marabell nodded. “It was her last request that I give them to each of you. Personally. Just…” She shifted in her seat. “I don’t really have yours. Or your brother’s in fact! It’s just-”

Balin chuckled. “It’s alright there, lass. It’s the thought that counts. That she was thinking of any of us warms my heart.”

“Oh,” she blinked. “No no no. What I meant was I couldn’t bring yours with me. It should be here after the winter melt. Mum had it all arranged with the traders from Blue Mountain. They’re to stop by Hobbiton on their way passed the Shire to bring it. I couldn’t exactly carry it myself.”

Understanding lite his eyes and he chuckled. “I will eagerly await it then. Thank you, lass.”

She pouted. “Don’t you even want to know what it is?”

He smiled. “If you are allowed to tell me.”

“Oh course I’m allow to. I’m supposed to.” She paused at the teasing twinkle in his eye and she puffed out her cheeks before letting out a long sigh. “I’m going about this all wrong.” Marabell moved the bag onto the floor. “Mum used to tell me this story. She said it was one of the clearest memories of you she had of you. It was just after Carrock. Everyone was tired and sore. All your supplies were gone and no one had the energy to so much as hunt so you were all hungry.

“You were on watch when she woke up to some off sound in the distance. You were sitting with your back to the fire looking sadly down at your empty pipe. King Thorin was laying near your side and she said you looked so worried.”

Balin’s eyes grew a bit distant. “Aye, I remembered that night. A lot changed that day and I feared that despite everything our quest might be over.” A crease appeared behind his brows. “Bilba came over. She looked so tried, your mum did. Pulled out this tiny punch from her vest.”

“Old Toby. It was the last of her stash.”

He chuckled. “I can still remember the taste of it. I am nothing if not an honest dwarf and in all my long years I have never had anything finer.”

Marabell smiled. “You said as much and although it’s normally not for trade outside the Shire, mum had it arranged for a cask to be sent here each year.” She smiled then. “The Thain thinks its for me. So I don’t feel homesick.”

He shook his head. “That lass,” he chuckled as he leaned back in his chair. “In a way I’m surprised she even remembered after everything. We weren’t exactly the best to her near the end.”

“She said that was why she preferred to remember the brighter times. It’s the small things, she says, that are always the most important.”

“I thank you then, lass. For giving me such a wonderful gift. It warms my heart to know she still thought of us in the end.”

Picking up her bag as she moved to her feet. “I should let you get back to work then.”

Balin rose as well. “You are always welcome. Please let me know if there is anything I can be of service with. I know Thorin would like to get your lessons started soon.”

“Lessons?” She paused.

“In Khuzdul to start with. I believe Ori would be a great service in this as well. She has been working on several teaching books to help our youngsters which might be of some help.”

Marabell wavered ever so slightly. A part of her wanted to refuse the lessons on principle. She was still hesitant in her long term goals and had no idea if she would be staying. Also because it was her father’s idea. The scholar in her however, cried out in excitement. Khuzdul had always been the empty hole in her lessons growing up. That along with much of her dwarven heritage.  

“Think on it, lass.” Balin offered seeing her hesitation. “Once you’re settled and all we can start if you like.”

Balin watched the door close behind their new princess. Her visit had been unexpected. Her generous gift even more so. He had been wondering what their lost burglar's thoughts were towards the Company in the end. Though Marabell had insisted that Bilba had held no ill will against any of them for what happened, it was different coming from Bilba herself.

He returned to his desk, eyeing his pipe thoughtfully. He wondered then what the traders would be bringing for his brother also in the coming spring.

* * *

Bombur was please, although not overly surprised to see Bell slip into the kitchens that morning. Everyday since her arrival she had managed to find her way there at least once each day. He watched as one of the younger apprentice cooks, Jovin, approach her with an easy smile. The dwarf kept his brown beard knotted under his chin as was common with many of the cooks. No one enjoyed finding hair in their food. Or food in their beards for that matter.

Marabell’s friendly and polite nature worried the round dwarf however. He had noticed Jovin’s attention on Bell over the last few days and knew she was unaware. Bombur knew it would be only a matter of time till he grew confident enough to approach her.

It seemed that today was that day. Bombur didn’t like it once bit.

His wife’s light touch on his arm was the only thing keeping him from going over there and putting the younger male in his place. “Don’t worry. She knows what she’s doing.”

Bombur shifted his weight as he crossed his arms. “Still doesn’t give him the right-”

“To what? Strike up a conversation? It’s not like he’s presenting her with a courting bead and anyways, she’s enjoying the attention,” she smiled in a knowing way.

Bombur went rigid as he turned startled eyes to his wife before a frown took hold on his round face and he began to march over. Tanil’s hand was firmer this time, belaying her true strength. “Just wait,” she insisted.

Thankfully at that moment Bell bid the dwarf a polite but clear goodbye before working her way across the space towards them. She was light and careful on her feet. Already the kitchen was bustling as they prepared for the noon-time meal and she took care not to get in anyone’s way.

Her grin grew as she neared the pair. “Good morning. I hope this isn’t a bad time.” She glanced around. “I can come back later.”

His wife smile, her hands laying across her swollen belly. “Nonescence. Bombur can always make time for you if you have need of him. I was just stopping in before my visit with the healers.”

“Oh my,” Bell breathed with concern, her eyes lowing to Tanil’s stomach. “Everything is alright, I hope.”

Bombur chuckled good naturedly at the young dwobbit’s round eyes. “She’s fine. They are both fine.”

Tanil shared a smile with her One before turning to face Marabell. “Just a checkup. The stones are saying it’s going to be another health boy. Though most are these days. Shouldn’t be much longer now.” She rubbed her hand over her swell fondly.  

Marabell tilted her head, “You mean dwarrowdams can’t tell?”

Now it was there turn to be wide eyed. “What do you mean?” Bombur asked.

The dwobbit grinned brightly before changing the topic. “I have something I need to talk to you about, Bombur. Is there somewhere we can go?”

“Ah, yes. I use the furthest store as a bit of an office when I need to write up orders and the like. This way.” He paused when he noticed his wife’s hesitation.

Marabell noticed it too. “Oh, you’re welcome to join us, Tanil. I’m sure it would have been okay in this case.”

The other female gave a wavering smile. “If you’re sure. I don’t want to intrude.”

She shook her head. “Not at all,” Marabell answered with a reassuring grin.

There was quite a bit more room in Bombur’s makeshift office than Marabell expected. Stone shelves had been cut into the walls of both sides, each filled with unopen crates or empty casks. A desk had been brought in along with a chair and set in a corner of the space. It was clear Bomber didn’t spend much time there, rather content to be out in the kitchens.

A shiver ran up her spine. “It’s a bit cooler in here but you’ll find it nice after a long day by the fires,” Bomber dropped himself into the only chair. Marabell half expected it to groan under such abuse but since it wasn’t made from wood, it had no such complaint.

Tanil took up a place just behind her round husband, thin hands resting comfortably on his wide shoulders. Her long braided and looped sideburns brushing against his back. She had seen few, more contented sights. They were truly a pair. Shaking her head a bit she rested her bag on the corner of his desk to fish out a sealed box near its bottom.

When she started talking, she did so to the worn and stained box in her hands. “I didn’t come to Erebor by choice. Not really,” She glanced up briefly. “Mother asked me to come as her final request.”

“And we’re glad she did,” Bombur smiled, patting his stomach.

Marabell smiled. “She wanted me to come here to meet all of you and to meet… Thorin. But also she left something for each of you.”

At this the cook’s eyes widened and he shared a look with his wife. “She… she did?”

The dwobbit nodded, setting the box down with one last caress of the lid. “Normally this would have come to me on her passing,” she held up a hand quickly when she noticed his rising protect. “But I knew it would have been wasted. I’m not cook.”

“But what about that dish you made for our young prince Fili?” asked Tanil.

She wrung her hands. “Well there are a few things I can make, but thats about it. So I suggested she give these to you instead of just picking a few out like she had wanted.”

Bombur’s eyes were already wet as he pulled the box closer. His thick fingers careful with the wax seal as he gently cracked it open. Inside were cards upon cards of family recipes. “Oh, Bell,” One big fat tear rolled down his cheek. “I can’t accept these.” Marabell leaned in and covered his hands when he moved to place the box back down. “Bell, I know how important this is. She can’t- It should stay with you.”

“Maybe,” Bell couldn’t stop her own eyes from watering. “But she would rather give them to you. I’m no cook and she always complained about these thirteen dwarves who showed up unannounced at her door and eat her clean out her pantry-” She was pulled into a crushing hug. The air forced from her lungs as she found herself with the mouth full of red beard.

A watery chuckle broken through Bomber’s tears as Tanil gave her husband’s arm a gentle tug. “Dear, you’re going to smother the poor thing.“

Marabell found herself suddenly back on her feet with her hands clasped within his. “I’ll do my best to make our Bilba proud. It’s not too late to change dinner.” He dropped back down into his chair and insistently lost himself in the recipes. He carefully pulled each card out, one at a time, treating it as delicately as one would a butterfly before setting it to the side. He muttered something about getting Ori to make a copy of them.

Tanil looped an arm through hers. “Come now. When he get’s like this there is nothing we can do.” Marabell let the other female pull her from the office and back into the kitchen. The heat of it hit her like a wall after being in the cooler storage room for so long.

“That was a wonderful thing your mother did. You mentioned she left something for each of the company?” Bell nodded. “Have you given Bofur his yet?”

“No, not yet.”

Tanil hummed. “You likely won’t see him today. He’s been working himself ragged in the mines the last few days, poor thing.”

Marabell was proud to recognize the rune they passed as ‘well being’. Though her thoughts quickly jumped back to their conversation. “Why would he be doing that?”

The dwarrowdam frowned. “Something has been eating at his mind. Not quite sure what. Never liked what this quest did to our cheerful Bofur. Seeing him like this is hard.”

“What do you mean?” Marabell asked as their steppes slowed to allow another group to pass.

“It stole his cheer away,” Tanil waved a hand to ward off the dwobbit’s question. “He used to smile and sing because he just felt like it. Now he does it because it’s expected.” She sighed. “Been worse since our Bifur passed back to the stone. We’re worried.” Her brown eyes met and held Bell’s blue ones for a moment before they continued on. “Maybe whatever your amad left for him will help to ease his heart a little.”

Marabell’s bag suddenly felt so much heavier. Poor Bofur. She hadn’t noticed. Then again she really had only just met the dwarf. She hoped then that her mother’s gift for him did help but she also worried it might add to the grief.

“Thank you again for what you did for my Bombur.” They stopped before a curtained doorway with two large black runes beside the arch. Marabell didn’t need her book to guess that they had arrived.

“I-” she started only to think twice. Pushing the heavy thoughts aside she decided to give one last thing. “It’s a girl.”

 


	9. Chapter 9

Tanil was quick to smother her excitement at Marabell’s news with a quiet, “We’ll know soon enough,” before they entered the healing room.

The hall was bright, open and had the sickly sweet smells that most places of healing seemed to carry. Screens partitioned off beds and offered what they could for privacy. Two dwarves in black quickly approached them as they entered.

The elder of the two, his beard a snowy white like Balin’s, bowed. “Gamdoc, at your service. Is there something we can do for you, princess?”

“Huh?” Marabell blinked. “Oh no. I’m fine. Just keeping Tanil company. Though I was hoping I might be able to find Oin. That’s if he’s here. Actually I have no idea where he normally spends his day,” she admitted. Gamdoc simply smiled.

The other dwarven healer, a younger looking male with pitch black hair and beard, lead Tanil to a partition further within the hall as Gamdoc directed her to a closed office to the right of the main entrance. He knocked firmly on the door, opening it for her when a grunted reply came from within.

“Should you need anything, please let me know.” Marabell thanked the aging healer before entering the room.

Oin was leaning over a large and very heavy looking tome on the stone table behind his desk. “Sit down. I’ll be with you in a moment.” He waved a quill blindly over his shoulder indicating the empty chair. She did so quietly, waiting patiently with her bag in her lap. When he finally finished he didn’t seem surprised by the young dwobbit waiting for him. He grunted as he sat down. “What can I do for you.” At his elbow his hearing horn sat. Marabell eyed it for a moment. “Well? Out with it.”

“I have something for you. From my mother,” she started, going through her bag.

“From our Bilba?” He rose a brow at that.

Marabell nodded, suddenly nervous. Her mother hadn’t spent much time with the Company’s healer during their journey. Their interactions had been few. Something she had regretted. But what interactions they did have had been pleasant. “She left something to each of the Company in her will.”

Like the others he seemed shocked by the news. “Well then, lass, what is it?”

She placed a small green bound book on his desk. He picked it up with interest. “What’s this now?” He flipped it opened. She watched his face closely and waiting. He hummed, turning another page. Then over to another before closing it with a thoughtful look. “Thank you, lass. Now if you don’t mind…”

“Oh! No, I’ll let you get back to work. Sorry for interrupting.” Marabell quickly fled towards the exit. She casted a look around for Tanil but she must have still been with the healer.

She lets her feet take her where they will. Marabell wasn’t sure what to make of Oin’s reaction to her mother’s gift. But she had expected… more. The small book on healing herbs, though common knowledge amongst most hobbits, was mostly unknown to dwarves. Her mum had spent what time she had in Oin’s company pointing out various plants and their uses during their travels. While the others had mocked her knowledge of ‘elven healing’, the older dwarf had paid close attention and had spent some evenings by the fire asking questions about one plants use versus another.

A small frown marred her face as she turns a corning unseeing thinking that maybe she should find Dwalin next. Which was likely why she suddenly ended up on her backside. “Careful there. You might want to keep an eye on where you’re going.” Gloin’s heavily bearded face leaned over her. His large hands pulling her quickly back to her feet.

“Are you alright, Mistress Baggins?” Gimli hovered awkwardly at her side as if he feared she might just fall right over again.

She dusted off her pants and picked up her dropped bag and quickly checked to make sure nothing was damaged. She had had everything pack better for her journey and she would feel awful if she brought one of the gifts this far only to break it now. She breathed a sigh of relief, “Nothing broke.”

“Nothing broke?” Gloin eyed her bag. “You’re not going anywhere, are ya? Thorin gave us all strict orders not to allow you out of this mountain. I don’t mind making Gilmi here chase you down if I need to.” His son puffed out his chest.

Marabell frowned. “Why does everyone assume that? Just because I have a bag doesn’t mean I’m planning on leaving.”

“So you’re going to be staying,” Gimli grinned.

“I- Well… I haven’t decided yet.” The younger dwarf’s smile dropped. She pressed on quickly turning to Gloin. “I’m happy to have find you though. I just saw your brother. I have something I need to give you.”

“Something to give me? Well then hand it here.” The warrior held out a hand.

She hugged her bag a little tighter, looking around. A few others had stopped to idle in the hallway failing to look as if they weren’t listening. “It’s kind of private.” She gave him a pleading look to which he huff with a turn of his head, unable to meet her big round eyes. They were just like her mother’s when she did that and he hadn’t been able to say no to her either.

“Have you eaten? Forget it, just come along,” he said gruffly. “We’re headed home for lunch. Will that suffice?” She nodded and fell into line beside Gimli.

She noticed the younger dwarf watcher her from the corner of her eye. She gave him a polite smile to which he blushed, noticeable even through the hair on his cheeks.

She had never been to any of the living quarters in the mountain before. The hall was wide, the ceilings vaulted and lit by some unseen source. It felt oddly open before being surrounded by nothing but stone. Large doorways with heavy runes carved around their frame sat at equal distances from each other. There were no jewel here like in the royal quarters, but inlays of gold, copper and silvers.

Gloin exchanged greetings with several others as they passed, turning to open one of the doors inlaid with a shining mix of copper and silver metals. He didn’t wait of them, leaving Gimli to hold the door for her as she entered.

She expected things to feel cramped and small as she did with all things in the mountain, so used to the openness of the elven dwellings and the open air of the Shire. The ceilings were lower than in her rooms and it was not as grandly decorated, however it was just as warm and welcoming as any home.

Gimli moved about the space turning on glow lamps as his father stripped his outer jacket, throwing it across the back of one of the chairs. “Wife won’t be joining. Just us.” He dropped down into a chair by the table. “So what is it you have for me?”

Glimi took a seat to his right as Marabell sat down across from him. She had to admit that after her meeting with his brother Oin she felt a little thrown off. She didn’t want this to be just some little speech followed by the gift and a how’d-you-do. Her mother had wanted this to mean something to each of her dwarves.

At her hesitation Gloin’s brow furrowed. “No one’s been bothering ya, have they?”

“Huh? No, no that’s not it. Everyone has been very kind. Just… I just came from meeting with your brother-”

“Aye, you mentioned that.”

“And he was a little… short. Just… not the reaction I was expected.”

Gloin leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “And what reaction were you expecting?”

Marabell shifted with a small shrug. “Something a bit… more? But I’m getting ahead of myself here.” She removed a tightly wrapped bundle from her bag, holding it closely in her hands. “My mum wanted you to have this.” She made no move to hand it to him. “She said that she had never seen someone as proud of his family as you. Which is saying something coming from a hobbit. We have very large families after all.” She gave him a quick nervous smile.

Gimli looked between his father and the young princess, his eyes landing on the bundle she still held. His father had gone silent, his eyes a little distant.

“I had always hoped she’d get to meet my boy Gimli here and my wife when they returned to Erebor,” he said at last. “But she never stayed.”

“No,” Marabell left it at that. Carefully she unwrapped the cloth bundle. “Whenever a new family is made, it’s customary for another family member to visit the Party Tree and use one of it’s branches to make this.” She placed the beautiful wooden nesting doll onto the table. Gloin’s eyes widened at the sight of it as his hands moved to pick it up. Marabell’s light touch stopped him.

Hobbit nesting dolls came in many shape or size and really depended on the crafter. “This one is ours, made by my grandfather.” It was nearly perfectly round. The grain of the wood had been oiled to shine and to bring out its rich colour. She ran her fingers carefully over the rune cared caringly into the top. “The outlay is for family.” She twisted and pulled it apart. The next layer was of a lighter wood. “The next layer is for trust, friendship and devotion.” She again twisted and set it aside. “The last if for joy and happiness.” The small palm size ball laid cradled in her hands. She pressed a hidden catch at the bottom and it opened like a clamshell. “They say that if you put a wish inside and keep it over your hearth it will always come true. While I’m not sure about that they are given in the hopes that the family live long, happy and to the sounds of many little feet.”

Carefully she placed it all back together before setting it before the teary eyed dwarf.

He snuffled. “I cannot accept this. It should go to you.”

She smiled sadly. It should have gone to her. Her mother had fretted. She had wanted to make one herself for the family oriented dwarf, but her mum never had the skill. “You’re right. However she had never met another who loved his family as much as you do. She hoped maybe a little of our hobbity nature might rub off on you.” She added with a wink which had the dwarf laughing loudly.

“Did she now?” He laughed stilled, wiping at a tear. “You know I always thought she was pulling our legs on that.”

Marabell smiled. “Not even in the slightest. I have so many cousins I can’t remember their names and every time I visited there are more.”

Gloin shook his big hairy head. “There is still no way I can accept this, lass. It’s too important to be given outside of family.”

She smiled then, giving it a little push towards his side of the table. “Last I checked we are family, cousin.”

His laughter followed her out into the hallway.

“Bell!” Ori’s bright greeting called out to her as the other female moved through the growing crowded hallway to reach her. “Whatever are you doing here?”

Marabell smiled brightly at her friend. “I was just visiting with Gloin and Gimli.”

Ori blinked at the door for a moment before shying ducking her head. She should have noticed and for once she didn’t have her nose in a book. “Are you busy now? I was just stopping by my room quickly before heading back to the library.”

The pair were suddenly forced closer to the wall as the press of passing dwarves increased. Ori’s mittened hand tucked into the nook of her arm. “Shift change. We better get out of the way.” With a light tug Ori pulled them into the flow. It turned out that her home was only a few doors down from Gloin’s. Ori pushed opened the door before quickly pulling Marabell inside before she was swept away.

The pair grinned at each other in the doorway before jumping a mile high. “What’s this now? Ori, I thought you were going to be working for the rest of the afternoon,” Dori looked up from the table he shared with Nori. The spymaster had his booted feet up on the table, several knifes sitting by his heels looking recently sharpened.

“Oh,” Ori flushed lightly. “I didn’t know you’d be in. I’m just stopping by to get my other set of pencils. Balin as asked for my help for the rest of the day.”

Nori nodded his tri-pointed head, “Princess.”

Dori looked startled, having not noticed the young princess as focused on his sister as he was. “Mistress Marabell! Now this is a welcome surprise. Please, come in and have a seat. I already have another pot of tea going and there is some leftover cake our little Ori made the other night.”

“It’s really quite good,” Nori added, flashing a grin at his sister.

Marabell heard Ori’s soft sigh. “They are just being kind,” she spoke quietly so her brothers couldn’t overheard. “I only burnt half of it. They feel it’s an improvement.”

“Because it is!” Nori laughed.

Ori puffed up her cheeks but said nothing. To Marabell she waved a hand to follow. “There’s something I want to show you, since you’re here.”

She followed Ori through one of the three doorways at the back of their open living area. It was dark till Ori lit the lantern by the doorway. Marabell wasn’t sure what she expected but it wasn’t this. The whole of the mountain was a mix of warm green stone and gray rock, but Ori had whitewashed the walls in her room and cover it all in stunning artwork. Marabell’s eyes jumped from image to image. Sceneries, landscapes. There was a beautifully detailed image of an giant eagle right down to the downy feathers on its breast. Fili and Kili looking younger and laughing. There was a bear, rabbit and tiny finches. Dwalin with his head shaved and axe in hand. One of Ori’s brothers smiling and Gandalf blowing rings of smoke.

Then an image of a round door in a hill. Bag End. And her mom looking so very young and happy smiling from atop a rock. “Oh, Ori….” Her eyes watered. There was more but she couldn’t turn away from her mother’s face.

“I have others.” That brought her attention back and Marabell turned to see Ori’s deep eyes watering as well. In her hand she held out a handful of papers. “I want to bound them all properly. Just can’t seem to get the time.”

Marabell’s hand trembled ever so slightly as she reached for the papers. The first was her mother sleeping, face turned to the fire as she slept on the ground. There was another of her sitting between the princes. She couldn’t help but smile along with them. Another of her and Bofur. The hatting dwarf must have just teased the smaller hobbit. Her mother had her cheeks all out and mouth pulled down into a frown.

The last in the stack was her mum and Thorin sitting side by side, leaning on each other and looking so utterly content that she could feel their love captured so perfectly. She set the papers down so quickly she managed to knock a book right off Ori’s desk, sending the papers held under it scattering all across the room.

“I’m sorry! Oops. I shouldn’t have done that.” Marabell crouched down. “I should have been more careful-” She looked up at Ori who hadn’t moved at all. In fact she was hiding most of her lower face in her hands and appeared frozen in place. She was also an alarming shade of red. Even her ears. Marabell followed the dwarf’s gaze down to the papers across the floor.

More drawing. Only every single one of them were of Dwalin. A few appeared older, the paper coloured and creased and the warrior still bald. Many more were new showing Dwalin with his proud warrior’s crest. In some he carried weapons, a few of him bare chested. Some depicted him mid-battle all fierce and roaring. Some just quietly looking out into the distance.

As Marabell gathered up the remaining spilled papers, Ori sank down into the chair and hide her face in her arms. When she placed the drawings back onto the desk she made sure to place a heavy book over them so they wouldn’t get knocked again. The dwobbit knelt down beside the chair, placing a comforting hand on the other female’s back. “Ori, are you in lov-”

“Don’t tell my brothers!” she squeaked, looking pale at the thought. “They’d never approve and if they knew I’d never be able to see…”

Marabell smiled brightly and hugged Ori. She was stiff but quickly leaned into the embrace. “I’m so happy for you.”

“What?” Ori leaned back. “I-why?”

Marabell dropped back to sit on the floor by Ori’s feet. “Because it’s a wonderful thing to be in love.”

Ori wung the edge of the knitted sweater as she shook her head. “No. It just hurts,” she admitted with a soft sigh. Marabell expected tears but there were none.

With a frown Marabell glanced to the image of the warrior on the wall. “You’ve liked him since the quest?” A small nod. “Did you confess already? And he turned you down?”

“What? No! No-no-no! I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Marabell jumped to her feet. “So you’ve liked him for all these years and haven’t even told him at all?”

Ori hide her face. “It’s not that simple.” She peeked through her hands to see Marabell waiting with her arms across and an expectant look on her face. “I just can’t- He’s the captain of the guard! My brothers- They’d never let me, or him- And it’s not like he’s my One....”

“Your One?” Marabell tilted her head at that, sitting down on the edge of Ori’s neatly made bed.

“I know he’s not. I mean, if he was than I was feel… more? Different? But then that means that my One might still be out there and with someone else it might not be…” Ori with her shoulders slumped looked so utterly defeated. It hurt Marabell to see her new friend in so much pain over what should have been a happy thing.

“Do all dwarves have a One then?”

She nodded. “Mahal made us to only love once.”

Marabell frowned. “But aren’t you already in love?” When Ori groaned and hide her face away again she was back up and rubbing small circles on her back. “I still think you should tell him.” Ori shook her head and Marabell grinned. “Or maybe I will.”

“No, you can’t!”

“Ori?” Dori’s voice called through the door. “You alright in there?”

At that the dwarrowdam scrubbed her hands over her face, quickly picked up the things she needed as she called back that everything was alright.

“Ori, maybe-”

“Please, Bell. Just… forget about it?” Ori sent the dwobbit a pleading look before heading back out her door. Making a few quick goodbyes to her brothers as she left.

Dori had a setting laid out on the table waiting for Marabell. A small plate of sweets sitting next to the bowl of sugar. “I left it plain for you, dear. I wasn’t sure what you would like in it,” Dori’s smile was oddly motherly for a male dwarf and she did her best to return it. Nori had done his thing and slipped away again.

Her mind was still turning over what she had learned when she noticed that Dori seemed to be waiting on her. She suddenly remembered her purpose and realized that now was the perfect time to give Dori his gift.

“I have something for you from my mother.” She pulled over her bag and dug through the pockets. “You might need some help with them, but they should do well here even with the rocky soil.”

Dori’s brows drew down. “What’s this then, dear?”

Marabell grinned as she placed the small glass bottle onto the table. Inside several dozen tiny black seeds rolled around. “They aren’t much now, but if we can get them into the soil before the first winter frost, by this time next year Erebor will have it’s first crop of tea leaves.”

The silver haired dwarf had the bottle pitched between his thumb and pointer finger. His eyes were wide, mouth slightly agape. “Erebor’s own tea?” His eyes turned back to the bottle in wonder. “This is, was, a gift from your mother?”

She nodded. “She left everyone in the Company something when she… passed.” Somehow seeing all the images in Ori’s room made it so much harder for her to say. She cleared her throat and noticed Dori watching her with soft eyes.

“You’re mother was always someone who took care of everyone else needs over her own. You might look an awful like Thorin, but you have so much of our Bilba in you. Thank you. I’ll have to speak with Balin about finding a place to plant these. And thank you, for becoming a friend to our Ori. It makes us both happy to know she had someone else looking out for her.” He winked before turning to pour more tea into his cup.

Marabell’s mouth fell open but before she could say anything the dwarf was rising from his seat and moving towards the kitchen to boil more water.

 


	10. Chapter 10

Bell had had a restless night. Her thoughts had been torn between Ori, Ones, and Frodo and the others. Come morning she had no better answer to any of questions and was resolved to ask someone else about them. Looking up from her place that morning beside Kili, she found the best person for the job eyeing her messy braids with mild annoyance.

She forced herself from running a hand over them. Again. She had been a little out of sorts when she put them in that morning and although she had gotten better at it, she knew that she was going to have to redo them before she went any further then the royal suits.

“Dis, I was hoping I might be able to… talk with you a bit after we eat?” She felt her cheeks heat as the three males at their table shifted their focus to her. “If you’re not busy that is.”

“Nonsense, my dear.” Dis patted at her mouth with a napkin. “Besides, your hair is a frightful mess and I’m not letting you from my sights till it’s fixed.” Her flush flared when Fili, sitting at his mother’s side that morning, nodded.

Kili leaned an elbow on the table beside her. “What you want to talk about?” he asked and she turned to face him.

“Um…” Marabell blinked a little off guard. “Just… lady stuff.” Kili’s expression suddenly looked far too curious and far too interested in whatever he thought ‘lady stuff’ might have meant. Before he could ask anything else she quickly finished the last item from her plate and excused herself. Dis followed soon after.

Once the females were gone Kili chuckled to himself.

“What is it?” Fili asked, taking the bait.

“Bet she fancies someone,” Kili said with a cocky smile and a wiggle of his brows that had Thorin spit his drink across the table and Fili choking.

* * *

Dis had her sitting before the mirror in her bedroom as she slowly worked a comb through her hair. “Now, what was it you wanted to ask me that you didn’t want to say in front of the boys?”

She shifted a little before she plucked up her courage. Really, it shouldn’t be so hard. It wasn’t like it had anything to do with her. She just wanted to know because there might be something there that would help Ori.

“I wanted to ask about Ones.” The comb in her hair stopped and she glanced up to meet Dis’s questioning eyes in the mirror. “Not me! I don’t- I mean,” she sighed. “It’s… If I tell you, you can’t tell anyone.”

Dis’s face softened and she nodded. “You have my word, I won’t speak of anything we discuss now with anyone.” She felt the tension in Marabell’s back ease and resumed her grooming. “Now, what do you wish to know about Ones?”

“Ori said that dwarves can only love once?”

“Ori?” Dis said thoughtfully. “While that is the common thought, we can however love more than once.” Seeing the younger female’s frown she continued. “But we can only have one One.” Dis thought of her Vili then. With his crooked smile and golden hair.

“So dwarves can only have one mate?” Marabell tried again.

“Oh no. We are free in that regard. Though it might be a topic for another time. Ones are our other half. I believe I have heard men use the term soulmate, though I am not sure how accurate it is. It was said that when Mahal first crafted our people he used one stone. Finding one’s One is like finding that perfect piece which matches against your own as if you were carved out together from that first rock.”

“How do you know someone is your One then? Or do you just kind of… know when you meet them?”

Dis smiled at this. “In some cases as soon as you see them you know. That was how it was with my Vili. When I saw him giving Thorin trouble that afternoon I knew right away. We were wed very soon after.”

Marabell watched the other female’s hands work. “But not everyone knows right away?”

“No. Most don’t. Often time it takes time before it just suddenly clicks. It was that way for my brother. He said it was the moment he woke up on Carrock that he knew your mother was his One.”

“And dwarves can only have a single One?”

Dis nodded, setting the braid she made to the side and starting on a new piece of hair. “While it’s true that some might find company with another after their One has returned to the stone. A dwarf will only ever find his One once. Those who lose them are alone.”

Marabell turned. “I… what about me? I’m neither hobbit or a dwarf.”

She smiled and knocked her forehead against her nieces. “Then you will either find a One, or you will not. That does not mean you will not love. Now put such things aside. I am curious as to why young Ori would be talking with you about Ones.”

Marabell’s grin reminded her far too much of her sons. “She’s in love with Dwalin.”

Dis’s blue eyes widened at that. “I would have never guessed.”

“And since the quest too!” Marabell added. “But she refuses to confess her feelings.”

“I don’t see why not. She’s very well suited to the old boar. I dear say Dwalin would be lucky to have her interest.”

“So it’s not a problem then, that she loves him?”

Dis looked confused. “Oh, stone’s no. A dwarrowdam may choose whomever she wishes. There are so few of us as it is that no one interferes in such things and should Dwalin prove to be her One, then not even Thorin is allowed to part them.”

If that was true, then it mattered little if her brothers didn’t agree with the match. So then the only thing stopping Ori was Ori. She had been watching the older warrior for so long now she was likely just afraid of what would happen if he turned down her suit. If she was going to get Ori to confess to Dwalin, then first she was going to need to prove to Ori what he was at least the slightest bit interested first.

“I know that look,” Dis gave her a knowing grin. “My sons get that same look whenever they are plotting something. You’re trying to find a way to get them together, aren’t you? I think I might know a way to help.”

* * *

Kili was bouncing with boredom by the time Marabell and his mother came out into the hall. “I thought you two were going to hide in there all day. I wasn’t going to wait much longer.”

Dis raised a brow. “I didn’t know you were going to wait in the first place. Don’t you have training this morning?”

“Nope. Dwalin canceled. Something else is going on. So I’m free and I haven’t had a chance-”

“In that case. Kili you’ll come with me this morning.” He opened his mouth to protest but quickly closed it under his mother’s stare. Dis smiled back at her niece. “Take care today. Remember what we discussed.” With that she all but dragged her son down the hall.

Turning back inside, Marabell headed for her room. She had gotten a bit distracted yesterday with everything and hadn’t managed to finish giving out her gifts.

She up turned her bag onto her bed. “Fili, Nori, Dwalin and Bofur’s.” One other package lay off to the side. She was at a bit of a loss as to what to do with Bifur’s present. Likely it best to give it to Bombur or Bofur. She wouldn’t want them to feel like her mum had excluded their cousin.

She picked up the small wooden box she knew contained Fili’s present. Maybe he had the morning off too. If she was lucky he might even be in his room.

She pocketed the box before putting the others back into her pack and made a dash for the hallway where she caught herself fidgeting at Fili’s door across from hers. With a deep breath she knocked and waiting.

Marabell almost turned away when the door opened. “Mara?” Fili stood in the doorway looking far less dressed than he had been at breakfast. He wore loose fitting trouser, socked feet and had managed to throw a robe over himself before answering the door.

She frowned ever so slightly. “Did I wake you?”

He gave her a sheepish smile. “You might have. Do you want to come in?” He stepped aside.

His inner room was dimly lit and overly warm thanks to the large fire banked in the hearth. It was richly decorated in Durin blue with hints of black and grays. Weapon ranks lined the wall near the door and a heavy looking sword sat over the mantel. The door to his bedroom had been left open, giving Marabell a clear view of his rumpled sheets.

He closed the door behind her, moving around to drop heavily into one of the padding chairs. He let his head fall back with a sigh. His eyes slipping closed. She noticed then not just how unkempt he was, his braids have fallen as if he had been pulling at them, but there were dark half moons under his eyes as well.

Startled pale blue eyes opened at the soft press of a warm hand across his forehead. Marabell’s face hovered worriedly over his. She was biting on her lower lip. He wished she’d stop it. He wanted to bat her hand away and regretted ever opening his door but he couldn’t bring himself to such false anger.

The hand slipped away all on its own as she moved to the chair beside his. “You’re not sick. Fili is there something bothering you?”

There were a hundred things bothering him. None of which he wanted to voice at that moment. He wanted to lean over and kiss those reddened lips, though he knew it to be all kinds of wrong. Why did Mahal see fit to curse him so?

“Fili?” That worried look was back but then it slipped into understanding and his heart gave a panicked thump. He watched her rise from the chair and cast her eyes about the room. When she didn’t find what she was looking for she asked him to wait a moment and quietly slipped from the room. Fili just let his eyes close again and breathed.

He might have fallen asleep. He’s not sure. Only there is a cup being placed into his hand and a skin of wine sitting on the table. He raised a golden brow in question but drinks from the cup anyways. It was barely after breakfast. Much of the kingdom was still asleep. It was a bit early to be drinking.

The wine was sweet and fruity. He felt his muscles ease and took another deep pull from the cup before setting it down. “Elven?” he asked though he knew the answer but was more curious as to what she’d say.

She shrugged with an innocent smile. “Uncle might not approve but Aunt Arwen has a habit of slipping a skin or two into my pack each time I visit. Do you have a rest day?”

He grunted out a no. Thorin expected to see him at noon. “What is it?” he asked noticing her sudden hesitation.

She opened her hands to reveal a comb she had picked up from her room. His eyes widened. She turned it over in her hands and he was thankful that she wasn’t watching him. “Just… Dis helps me with mine and I might not be very good at it but I’m better at braiding others then my own. I was wondering if you might like me to braid your hair for you?”

He knew, _knew_ , the gesture was one made between kin. Brother to sister as they were. Cousins. But the thought didn’t stop his heart from shaking the way it did. He feared it would break him, her innocent offer. But he couldn’t say no. Instead he simply nodded, unable to trust his voice and oh, that answering smile made it all worth it. He could battle a thousand orcs just for that smile.

Marabell rose from the chair to come around his back. Her hands were careful and unsure at first as they gathered back his hair and began to slowly work out the messy plaits.

“Kili is worried.” He startled at that. “I think he can see how stressed you’ve been.” He tried not to groan as the comb scraped against his scalp, sending tiny shivers down his spine.

“I can never hide anything from him for long.” He felt her hands slow and the comb removed as she began to twine a section of his hair.

“Then why not talk to him about it? It’s not good to keep all your thoughts bottled up and it would make him worry less if he at least knew a bit of what was on your mind.” He felt her slip a bead into place and one braid fell to his shoulder as she began work on another. “He thinks something happened in the Iron Hills.”

Would it be like this? Resting by the fire after a long day settling disputes and running the kingdom. Small hands in his hair easing his worries. His thoughts were heading down pathways and dreams he had no right to and her innocent actions were quickly turning to a new kind of torture.

“No, nothing happened at the Iron Hills. I’m simply tried.”

“Tired of trying to be perfect all the time?”

He blinked up in time to see her smirk and realized she had seen right through him. He laughed, leaning away from her hands only to drink from his cup again. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Yes,” she huffed. “More so if you don’t allow yourself time to not to be. Perfect that is. You need time to just be yourself.”

“Hmmm,” he hummed over the rim of his cup. “Easier said than done when I’m expected to run the kingdom.”

Marabell came around. “But you’re not. Not yet. Erebor still has its King Under the Mountain.” Her eyes suddenly clouded over and her lips thinned. “It’s not because of me is it?”

“What?” He blinked, setting his cup down.

She dropped his gaze. “I mean… You don’t have anything to worry about. It’s not like I came here wanting to be a princess or something. I didn’t even think about it really. I haven’t exactly been proud of who my… my father is and I could care less about what he is. It’s not like I’m planning to staying here either.”

“You’re not?” He felt it like a bolt through the chest and covered it up by shifting in his seat to sit a bit straighter. Years of council meetings had helped him mask his emotions, though he loathed to do so now. He wanted to grab her but couldn’t risk himself being any closer to her than he already was.

Her hand brushed against the box in her pocket. She had almost forgotten it was there. “I have something, from mum.”

Fili looked up to see her offering him a palm sized wooden box. His gaze jumped up to hers before his hands closed around it. “Is this where Kili got that new bead of his? He wouldn’t tell me a thing about it but at the same time we couldn’t get him to shut up.” He ran a finger over the smooth lacquer of the lid.

“I wanted to give it to you sooner. But you’ve been busy and it’s hard to catch everyone alone. I don’t want to take you away from your duties and all…”

Fili graced her with a small warm smile before lifting the lid. It wasn’t a bead like he had been expecting. Resting neatly within on a bed of green cloth, it was the length of his thumb and nearly as around. Made from a material he had never seen before.

“It’s ironbark. Mum collected it herself. Though she had to commission someone to carve it the way she wanted,” Marabell explained.

Fili turned it over in his hands. It was hollow and seemed to come apart but it was the design along the edges which drew his eye. Not smooth and angular, it had a soft wave to it. “I’ve never seen runes like these.” the prince ran the pad of his thumb over the engraving. “What is it? Elven?”

Marabell smiled. “No. It’s hobbitish.”

“Really? Bilba never mentioned that hobbit’s had their own tongue.”

“Oh course we do! Dwarves aren’t the only race allowed to have its secrets.” Her cross her arms with a good nature scowl. Fili wondered if he should mention how much she looked like uncle when she did that, but decided against it.

“What does it say?”

“It’s not what it says, so much as its meaning,” she replied. “The runes are used more as a talisman than actual meaning. She was always worried about you two, you know.” Marabell moved behind his chair again, picking back up the comb. “She called you her boys and spoke of you every day.”

“She did?”

She gave his hair a little tug. “Of course she did. She loved all of you so much. I think you know that.” He nodded slowly. She watched him trace the rune over his shoulder as she continued to work the comb through his golden hair. “She never wanted you to lose hope. ‘Keep heart free of burden.’ is what the runes mean. She worried you’d lose yourself to your uncle’s shadow.” When she held out her hand he placed the clasp into it. Pulling a pair of his front braids back, she clasped them together at the back of his head.

When he didn’t move or speak she feared she had done something wrong. Coming around his chair again she found tears tracing lines into his beard. “Fili?”

His arms came up, pulling her down till their foreheads touched. His hands were trembling but she said nothing. “Thank you.” She couldn’t stop herself from pressing a soft kiss into the crown of his hair as he released her.

He took a shuddering breath, eyes fixed firmly on some point near his feet. “Could you... give me a little time for myself, please?”

“Oh yes! Of course.” She jumped up, making sure to grab her comb along with the wine skin still on the table. “I’ll just… go.”

He sat with his head in his hands for a while yet after she had closed the door behind herself. When he was sure he would be able to stand without breaking apart he entered his bedroom, not bothering with the door. He changed his clothes without really looking and jammed his feet into a clean pair of boots. He avoided his reflection. Unsure and unwilling to see what he would find in it.

Before he left Fili pulled open the top right drawer of his dresser and removed a thin bladed with a simple spiral hilt and rounded pommel and silently cursed Mahal for giving him a One he could never have. Slipping the blade into his boot, he headed out the door.

 


	11. Chapter 11

The door crashed open as Thorin came roaring into the room. “I cannot believe them!”

Balin at his heels cast the wide-eyed guards standing at the door an apologetic smile before he closed it. He was glad to see that it still could closed. Though his king had managed to put a crack in it. Again. He’d have to have another commissioned. Maybe made from iron this time.

“But you cannot be surprised. You wanted their opinions. Now you have them.” Balin tucked his hands into his sleeves as he watched his king pace like a caged beast before the cold hearth of his office. “Now all that remains is what you are going to do with that knowledge.”

“Balin, she’s my daughter.”

“Aye, and she’s also a Durin princess and her heirs will be the first in line to the throne.”

Thorin dropped into the chair at his desk as if he held the whole mountain upon his shoulders. Maybe he did in a way. He rubbed a hand over his brow in a bid to ease the headache there. “I will admit, I expected more to speak out for her removal from the line of succession on account of her hobbit blood.”

Balin hummed, running a hand down his white forked beard. “I had thought that too. Maybe they think they can use it to their advantage. Were their sons to catch her eye it would put them in a very powerful position.”

Thorin groaned. “How in Mahal’s bloody hammer could they even think about wedding her off. To one of the boys no less! They are practically siblings! To Dain’s boy I could understand. Though the lad is still young yet to be thinking about marriage. But to Fili or Kili?”

Balin gave Thorin a pitying smile. “Dain’s boy is older now than the boys were starting the quest. It could be a good match, if they are taken with each other. As for Fili and Kili... the idea is that their union would strengthen Durin’s blood which you have, ah... weakened by looking outside our race.” Thorin groaned into his hands. “I had thought the practice had been all but forgotten in the years. It used to take place within some of the older bloodlines. Mostly those just outside the founding seven who wanted to keep their ties... pure.”

“Well it can remain forgotten,” the king huffed.

Balin chuckled. “No doubt they will thank you for it. Though your reaction was nearly the same as your father’s was when that same idea was brought to-” The door at his back opened without so much as a knock causing both dwarves to turn.

Nori’s face was deadly calm. “Tell me, great king, do you know where your daughter is?”

* * *

He might not have noticed the youngster had it not been for the glint of a buckle on their belt from his passing headlight. No one was suppose to be down that tunnel. It was unused and his miners knew it and unless they wanted to end up dead, they knew better than to enter the blocked off area. How they had managed to come this far into the mines without being stopped was surprising enough. The kid didn’t have a miner’s cap or decent enough boots on not to have slipped passed everyone’s notice.

He grit his teeth. He was going to have to lay into his men again. This was getting ridiculous. They had rules and guidelines for a reason and those who didn’t work safely could get their comrades killed. You don’t just miss someone wandering around the mines without the proper gear!

Luckily for the youth they hadn’t gone very far into the closed tunnel. Any closer and Rurhot would have been able to pull them out by the scruff of their jacket. As it was he’d setting for shouting at them - Provided the youth wasn’t daft and took off deeper into the shaft. That would bring him a world of trouble.

“You,” they jumped but didn’t bolt. “Get over here now!”

The youth turned a smooth round face towards his light, blinking in the sudden brightness. “I’m sorry.” She raised a hand to block the light. For there was no doubt once she turned that it was indeed a lass. He cursed a hundred more gods for his luck should something happen to the young female even if it was her own doing. “I didn’t mean to trespass,” she replied, though she turned her head back over her shoulder again, eyes fixed on a spot somewhere on the ceiling behind her.

“Never mind your reasons. Just bloody well get out of there,” he barked with a sharp wave of his hand. “And get back to work!” He turned on those few who had stopped curiously. Molan, his second, with a face a rusted as his beard joined him with an interested eye. That didn’t stop Rurhot from pushing a thick finger into his chest. “I want to know how a lone female entered this far into the mines without a single one of your men causing a ruckus.”

Molan knocked his hand back. “Oh, aye? I’m sure there are a few heads to knock. Most of them’s full of nothing but the rocks they mine though.”

“Ah,” Rurhot waved a meaty hand. “Lot gets denser and denser each season for sure.”

“Excuse me,” both dwarves jumped to find the young female suddenly standing before them. She was a sneaky little thing. Beaut too. Now that he could see her better. Rurhot’s eyes traced over the braids in her shining coal coloured locks and thought it a trick of the shadows which leant her delicate ear to appear more pointed than it should be. Then he looked to her family bead and felt a ghostly chill across the back of his neck.

Or it might have been the clamor of armour and marching boots coming up the tunnel. He recognized Dwalin, the guard captain, right away. The hulking warrior filled the tunnel forcing others back against the walls or get caught under boot. Moving in his wake looking even more hostile than his guard captain was the King Under the Mountain.

“Marabell!” King Thorin’s voice echoed and Rurhot used that moment to step back several paces pulling his partner along with him. There was no need to get caught in the middle. He noticed then the slowly increasing silence as fewer and fewer picks found stone. He ground his teeth but knew that shouting at them was useless. Already he could see a crowd growing at the entrance to another offshoot out of the corner of his eye. If anything this bit a drama would give his workers something to talk about for an evening besides their usual bitching.

Marabell wasn’t sure what to feel at that moment, embarrassed, angry, confused  but knew it was not that of a misbehaving fauntling. As such she had no issue turning to stand firm against King Thorin’s icy stare. Dwalin had stepped out of the way, arms crossed. She felt a slight ping of betrayal at Nori’s appearance beside the guard captain. The spymaster being the one who had likely blown the whistle on her.

When Thorin didn’t stop before her like she had expected and instead made to reach for her, Marabell quickly jumped back, her body tensing. Thorin stilled for a heartbeat before allowing his hand to drop with a scowl.

“You’re not to be here.”

“Is that so?” She challenged, standing to her full height even if Thorin was still a good head taller. “Says who?”

“Me,” he bite out in a tone he was used to other bulking under but to his daughter it only seemed to add more fire to her own mounting anger.

“So that’s it then? You’ve forbidden me from leaving the mountain. Now I can even move within it? In that case why didn’t you just send Dwalin or Nori after me? No need to come yourself. Am I to return to my room without supper like some wayward child?”

“Yes, if that’s what it takes. Will you not listen?” He snapped. Fists clenched at his sides in livid frustration as his remaining frayed patience finally let go.

“No,” Her stare was cold and flat as her head canted away from him. He had expected her anger. That fire her knew was in her dwarven blood to fight. What he got was Bilba and the disappointed and hurt feelings he knew were behind that mask. It hurt surer than any knife and he knew he had just ruined what little peace they had been able to form over the last week.

This had not been his intent when Nori informed him that he had lost track of Marabell somewhere in the direction of the mines. Worry had overclouded his senses. Many of the passages were unsafe and not all were clearly marked. He feared she might wander too deep like a curious cat. Even one familiar with the pathways could easily get turned around.

“... return this to your king.” He was so distracted with his thoughts that he missed her slipping passed, only catching the tail end of her words to Dwalin before she asked Nori to help her back to her room.

He could do nothing as Dwalin moved to his side and his daughter walked away. His old friend grabbed his hand, slapping the small, round object into his palm. He pulled him close. To those watching Thorin knew it would look like Dwalin was just passing on a message. In reality his friend’s grip was far too strong to be friendly. “You’ve fucked up, surer than anything. I warned you to keep out of it,” he hissed before pulling back.

Thorin took a moment to breath. He became aware of the eyes then. There were always those watching. Those judging. But in this he was no king. In this he was a father and he had let his worry and nerves get to him and he had jumped on her the moment he knew she was alright. He hadn’t even given her a chance to explain.

“What was she doing down here?” He asked no one in particul but there was always someone willing to answer their king.

The stout dwarf with a peppered colour beard and headlamp stepped forward. “Found her standing just inside the closed tunnel there, my king.”

Thorin frowned as he turned towards the marked off entrance. “And what was she doing in there?”

“Well. She was just kind of standing their, sire. Looking up at some spot on the roof.”

His black brows drew down. “Do you remember where abouts?” He followed the foremen into the closed tunnel. There was nothing special about the spot that he could see. No stange minerals or patterns to be seen. Playing on an odd feeling, he has the foremen direct a few of his works to chip carefully at the ceiling about where she had been standing.

Dwalin grunted at his side, too curious to remember he was still supposed to be mad at him. “What good is that going to do?”

Thorin shrugged. “I don’t know how to explain it. Let’s just say I’m doing what she asked and listening to her.”

* * *

She might not have noticed had it not been for Ori’s overly panicked cry of, “Dwalin!” some hours later. Marabell had been reading in an overly stuffed chair next to Ori’s desk as she worked. She had had a feeling that at some point one of them would come looking for her, she just figured it would be Nori.

Her friend was giving her an alarmed pleading look with just a hint of suspicion. Marabell just gave the other female a lopsided smile before turning to the towering warrior standing with cross armed on the other side of Ori’s desk.

“Yes, guard caption?”

“Thought you were going to your room?” he countered.

“I did,” she turned the page in her book feigning disinterest. “Then I came here. Were you sent to fetch me then?” Marabell turned another page.

“No.”

She looked up at that with a frown. “Then why are you here?” She glanced towards Ori who flushed when Dwalin’s eyes did the same. But only for a moment. Then they were looking at a shelf over their shoulders as the warrior declined to look at either of them.

“Lady Dis thought ya might be here and after she was done tanning her brother’s hide for being an idiot she asked if I’d stop by on my way back to the barracks.” It was probably the longest she had heard the warrior speak. “She’d like to see ya.” His gaze moved to meet Ori’s large brown eyes and she was sure her friend turned to stone under the stare.

“When are you doing training next?” Marabell asked, an idea coming to mind.

Dwalin looked at her strangely. “First light tomorrow. Already missed todays.”

“I’ll be there then.” The warrior huffed in his disbelief but the dwobbit didn’t care. “Ori you’ll come too, right?”

“What?” The dwarf jumped. “M-me? But I don’t fight.”

Was it just her, or was Dwalin smiling just a little. Marabell turned in her seat. “But I thought all dwarves knew how to fight?”

“Oh, aye, she can fight all right.” Ori reddened under Dwalin’s intense eyes. “But hides behind her brothers too much.”

At that the scribe huffed. “It’s not been by choice. They never allowed anyone to teach me and they weren’t about to do so themselves.”

Marabell grinned. “Perfect then! Dwalin can train us starting tomorrow.” The pair watched as she bound up from her seat. “I should go see what Dis wants.” She hugged the book she had been reading. “Is it alright to take this with me?” Ori nodded slowly. “Great! Thanks. I’ll see you both in the morning.”

* * *

Thorin’s tired eyes watched the candle light flicker through the fist size gem on his desk. It was only a small piece of a much large vein, but it was one of the richest deposits Erebor had ever seen. The mountain was not known for its gems, but for its gold and a find of this size, which had been missed of all things, was surprising.

It was not a common skill among dwarves. Though little about his daughter seemed common. The moment the thin layer of rock over the deposit fell away and he had seen what his daughter had found he had known why she had been there.

She had heard the crystal song. Marabell likely had no idea that was what she had been hearing raised up on the surface as she had. She had been drawn down into the tunnel by its call likely completely unnoticed because she was like her mother that way and could move without being seen. Often Bilba hadn’t even been aware she was doing it till she scared the daylights out of one of the Company.

He pushed himself up from his chair, leaving the crystal behind as he entered his bedroom. It had been a larger space when he had first reclaimed it but he had soon grown too tired of how alone the space made him feel and had a section of it walled off and turned into another room. Even now it was remained empty beside a closed door. He had no use for the space and likely never would.

Thorin entered the hidden doorway in his bedroom making sure to have the keystone in his pocket before closing it again. It wouldn’t do his mood any good to be locked out of his own bedroom. His heavy steps echoed like drum beats as he moved up the stairs, taking the first right, then left and opening the third door he passed.

The passage brought him out into a little used hallway beside the hidden entrance. His eyes lifted to the stone mural carved over the smooth door as he pulled it opened. He didn’t bother to close it. Few would be up at this time of night and even fewer would think to use that particular hallway. He pulled the fur of his mantle closer about his face as he stepped out into the cold autumn night.

He kept himself away from the edge and instead sat down in the corner with the mountain at his back and his face turned to the stars. There was no moon that night and the next would be the last of autumn. Durin’s Day. He was suppose to formally introduce Marabell to the kingdom during the ceremonies. Dain and other allies would begin their arrival soon and he was running short on time however things had been progressing well between them.

Until now.

Now he wasn’t sure what he was going to do. He looked to the stars. “Oh Bilba… I wish you were here. You always knew how to set me right.” Her silent strength and unending support. He had never noticed how greatly he valued and needed it till she was gone. His hobbit had turned him into a king by loving the dwarf beneath it all. It was really she that they owed everything to. The return of their home. Their lives. It had all been thanks to her and for all that he…

He had casted her out. Her great reward for saving them all a hundred times over. He had cast her down upon the rocks of his very door and might not have succeeded in killing her that day, but… She had been with child. His _children_. Twins. The rarest gift from Mahal nearly unheard of among his people. He had killed his son that day. He had nearly killed his Marabell with her dwarven fire and his Durin eyes.

He hadn’t known of course. But even through the cold hard hunger of his madness he remembered somewhere deep within thinking his Bilba looked so thin, so pale. He had found her being sick against the rocks of his kingdom and had cursed at her for fouling his gold. Had even made a move to strike her.

He had almost hit the female bearing his children. Thorin lowered his head to hands crossed over his knees and wept. There was no king here. Just a dwarf haunted by a past he could never change and his one connection, his one remaining light he had no idea how to reach. His Marabell. How he would have loved to have been there. To have seen her grow, take her first steps, say her first words. She was strong and spirited and had her mother’s smile. It broke his heart. He had no idea how to reach her and every time he tried he only succeeded in driving her away.

“Bilba… I don’t know what to do.” His breath rattled wetly as the cold wind slapped his face, sending his hair to whirl around him. His eyes saw a ghost standing among the light of the door near the cliff’s edge. Wild curls and bright eyes. Eyes that wept like his own but were all the wrong colour.

Marabell. Their daughter. And because there was little more he could do, he closed his eyes and lowered his head back down. This was his punishment. To be hated but his One’s living ghost. He deserved no less for his actions up until now. He hadn’t needed his friend’s sharp words or his sister’s outrage to know he was wrong.

There were small hesitant hands in his hair. With a slow life of his head he found her leaning over him. Her face was shadowed but her eyes were bright and did the only thing he had left to him. “I don’t know what to do.” The admission was raw, honest and he felt more tears hit his cheeks. Then suddenly this warm body was pushing its way into his arms and it was all he could do to hold onto his daughter as she sobbed into his shoulder and he pressed his cheek to her hair.

She smelt like grass. Like green things. Like her mother.

 


	12. Chapter 12

They watched the sky lighten together wrapped in his cloak. Marabell sat snugly against his side. She might have drifted off to sleep a few times with the warmth but he never made mention of it. He left his daughter sleep though he couldn’t bring himself to do the same. This was a moment he did not wish to miss. However it ended, the feeling of his daughter in his arms and the spirit of his Bilba so near was a moment he would take with him to the stone.

He held her just a bit tighter knowing she was awake. “Where is she?”

“Beside her parents under the oak tree behind Bag End. I planted it was cosmos. When I visited her before I left it was covered in a blanket a small white and pink blooms.” They were silent. A flock of birds passed by and there was a gathering of darker clouds coming over the distant mountains. It looked like they might get a storm.

“I’ll made arrangements to see her in the spring.” He felt her surprise in the way she shifted against him. “It’s been far too long.”

He heard her snuffle. “She’d like that.”

They had missed breakfast. No doubt his sister was wondering where they had gotten to and he had a meeting he was now late for but he couldn’t bring himself to mind. Let the council wait for once. He was tried at jumping at their call. His sister wouldn’t send out a search party till they had missed supper anyways. Though her boys might come looking sooner. He eased his stiff muscles back against the stone of his mountain with a feeling of contentment he hadn’t felt in years.

Suddenly Marabell jumped. “Oh confound it!” She scrambled up in a tangle of his cloak, accidentally elbowing him in the ribs in the process causing him to grunt. “I have training! I’m late. Oh bugger, Ori is going to be so upset with me if I leave her there alone.”

“Ori? Since when do you have training?” he questioned, rubbing at his side.

His daughter was trying to work a kink out of her leg as she moved for the door. “She has a thing for Dwalin,” she explained in a rush. “I figured training together would help her spend some time with him.” She froze, then turned with a pointed finger. “You know nothing.”

He held up his hands but couldn’t stop him smile. Marabell groaned, running her hands back through her tangled unbound hair. “I’m horrible at keeping these kinds of secrets. You can’t say anything!” She stepped back towards him. “Please don’t say anything. Especially to him,” she begged knowing he spent most of the day in Dwalin’s company.

His eyes continued to smile and his heart felt so light he almost laughed at her pleading expression. “You have my word, I will not tell Dwalin that young Ori wishes to court him.”

She looked ready to say something about that but then remember that she was already late and took off running.  

He leaned back with a laughed then. To the sky and the passing birds he laughed and at his side he felt his Bilba laying a kiss against his cheek. He might not know what he was doing being a father, but it was good to know he was just as lost as his daughter who had no idea what to do with him either. Maybe things would turn out alright for the pair of them yet. Only time would tell.

* * *

Ori was hovering nervously outside the training hall wringing her hands together as she paced in small tiny circles. She nearly jumped out of her skin when Marabell called out to her, “So sorry I’m late!”

“Bell! I thought you might have changed your mind. Did you sleep in your clothes?” She shook her head to remind herself she was angry with her friend. She had been up all night fretting. She was a scholar, not a warrior. And to train with Dwalin... “That was a mean trick, you know. My brothers are going to be furious when they find out about this.” Ori squeaked when the princess grabbed her hand and pulled her through the doors. She was not done protesting.

The large tattooed and mohawked warrior was already in the ring beating on some other poor dwarf. Marabell didn’t recognize the new youth from any of the other times she had been here. His copper colour beard also marking him as one of the older trainees.

Marabell pulled them to a seat in the front, despite Ori’s protests, a small bit away from the other males.

“You’re late.” At her side Ori cowered into her shoulder but Marabell just smiled towards Dwalin’s back. He didn’t even break in his attacks to address them.

“So sorry, master Dwalin. I was with da this morning.” She couldn’t stop the smirk which formed when the mighty warrior hesitated just long enough in a swing to allow to opponent the chance to break away from his attack.

Ori at her side smiled brightly. “You’ve finally worked things out?” She grinned.

Marabell nodded but before she could say anything another’s comment cut over to them. “Low borns, no respect. Look at her. Dam or not, she shames Mahal.”

“Isn’t that the mouse from the library? She looks like she could barely lift a quill, let alone a sword.”

There was a groan and a crash on the sand as Dwalin sent his copper haired student crashing with a well placed hit. “Enough.” He turned then resting his warhammer against a shoulder. He growled out a curse towards the two females. It was low and likely not meant for them directly but he was shaking his head. “Lass, tie back your hair. I’ll not be blamed for it getting hacked off.”

Marabell’s hands flew up into her messy curls. “Oh,” she had completely forgotten about her hair. She hadn’t had time to stop by her room and hadn’t even thought about her braids that morning. No wonder the others though so lowly of her.

“Ori do you have something for me to tie it with?” Ori thankfully had a bit of yarn in her pocket and Marabell made short work of getting her hair out of her face.

Dwalin nodded. “Now get a sword from the rack. You’re up against Tnor.” He indicated the dwarf still knocking sand out of his clothes. He stiffened when he turned back only to find the dwobbit already standing at his side.

“What am I expected to do, exactly?” She asked with an eye on the other dwarf. Her opponent grinned in a challenging way.

“Just try not to draw blood.” Dwalin moved to stand against the wall near where Ori was sitting in the benches. She could see her friend’s ears pinken even from there. How she’d manage to hide her feeling for so long was a mystery but the Company likely chocked it up to her generally shy nature.

“How is this training?” Marabell asked but in doing so had turned away from her opponent who took the opportunity to strike first.

Not that he hit her. She was fast and light on her feet even in the sand and managed to sidestep his attack. What she didn’t expect was for him to spin on his heel for another direct assault. The second one nearly did land.

With a concentrated frown she placed enough room between them and began to step in a circle as he mirrored her across the sand. “Your attacks are much more fluid than I expected,” she commented, watching his easy footwork.

“And you’re quicker,” he offered back. His grin was no longer as friendly. He seemed to realize she was going to be more of a challenge than he had first thought.

Marabell faked a left before driving forward. As expected he moved to block but didn’t expect for her to throw herself under his blade. He grunted as she struck his leg, coming up behind him.

“One,” Dwalin called out. There was a murmur of disbelief from the stands. A few hadn’t even seen her land that hit. Dwalin did his best not to turn when Ori gave a small sound of delight and clapped her hands.

Tnor didn’t look angry as much as determined after the strike. “Luck wont get you far in a fight.” His blade came forward to meet hers. This time she faked a lower attack before knocking his blade away to roll up the outside of his arm. He hadn’t expected her to get so closer. They ended up back to back before she threw back an elbow and caught him in the ribs.

She expected Dwalin to call it again but he didn’t. Though he had clearly seen the hit. Marabell frowned but it must only count when they landed a hit when their swords.

The next two hits were his. Both on her sword arm. The first had landed just above the elbow, the other across the back of her hand in an attempt to disarm her. Her knuckles throbbed and his confident grin was back. Marabell was finding it very difficult to not actually hurt him. Had she been fighting for real this would have been over some time ago but as it was it looked like she might lose. Marabell knew she didn’t have it in her to fight for much longer.

When he made yet another attempt to disarm her - seeing as it had worked so well for him thus far - she missed his blow though still dropped her sword. Quickly crouching, she used that brief moment when he waited for a call to pick up her blade and now inside her guard, launched herself against him.

He gave a started shout as he was knocked back to the sand. She rode him down and when the dust settled she sat straddling his chest with her blade pressed to the hollow of his throat beneath his copper beard. He blinked surprised clear blue eyes at her.

Dwalin barked a laugh. “I think ya got to give this one to her, laddie.” His large hard grabbed Marabell by the scruff and lifted her off the other dwarf. She protested at the handling but didn’t fight off his hand when he ruffled her hair. “Knew you had it in ya.”

“What? You mean you put me up again him because you thought I’d lose? I feel like I should be offended.” She crossed her arms.

“Nah. Still testing ya, is all.”

Her opponent had worked his way out of the pit to join the others. He seemed to be getting a good ribbing from his friends over his loss. She caught his eye before he quickly turned away. Ori had moved to the edge and had a big grin on her round face. “Bell, you were great! I didn’t know you could fight.”

Marabell replace the sword back onto the rack. “Why not?”

“Well, your mom could barely hold a sword when she joined us,” she explained, moving out of the way when Bell jumped up to sit down beside her.

“She made sure I started lessons when I was younger. I trained with the rangers who passed by and when we were in Rivendell, Elladan and Elrohir would train with me.”

Ori pulled a notebook from a hidden pocket in her knitted vest and quickly jotted down the names. “Who are they?”

“Lord Elrond’s sons,” Marabell clarified.

“Sounds like an elf,” snarked a young dwarf with only the barest showing of the beard. The other trainees had moved a little closer to the pair since the match.

Marabell gave him a look. “Because he is an elf.” She watched as several of them pulled faces but she ignored them.

“Alright. Enough. You two, ring, now.” Dwalin called down for the next set.

It was only after the last of the other trainees faced off against each other that Marabell realized Ori hadn’t been called yet. Ori for her part stayed silent as the others got ready to leave, waiting for Dwalin to dismiss them and more than happy to have not had to fight.

“Ori,” Marabell felt her friend lock up beside her as Dwalin called her name. “You’re up.”

When Marabell saw her ready to refuse and heard the others mocking her meekness. She gave her friend a shove forward. “Well, go on,” she grinned.

Ori slowly made her way toward the stairs leading into the ring, casting an almost pleading look over her shoulder. Dwalin for his part made no move to rush her. He stood there waiting as his eyes slowly tracked her progress.

“What’s the little skirt-clinger going to do?” This from the same dwarf who had mocked her before.

Marabell fought her very strong urge to defend her friend because she knew something they others didn’t. So when Dwalin called Ori away from taking a sword from the rack and instead tossed her his own warhammer. She felt a swell of pride over their surprised gasps and shocked murmurs when little Ori easily grabbed it with a single hand.

She gave it a swing, looking a little unsure as her looked up through her lashes. Dwalin with his arms crossed now had his back to those in the stands. “It’s been too long since ya wielded a weapon.”

Ori shifted about uneasily under the weight of his eyes. “Been no reason to,” she answered back softly.

“True enough,” the warrior agreed. “Still no reason for ya to get rusty. I want ya to hit me.”

“What?” she squeaked.

Dwalin frowned. “Don’t give me that. I’ve lived through worse than a knock from my own hammer.”

Marabell was distracted when a few of the others began to chat with much greater excitement than before.

“What do you mean, you didn’t notice?” This coming from the copper bearded Tnor. “Of course it’s the same Ori. How many other’s do you know.”

The younger male who had been so admittedly putting Ori down looked flustered. “Well how was I suppose to know?”

“Then who’s the other?” Marabell turned her attention back towards the ring as they all turned their eyes to her. Without her braids they really had little idea who she was and with her hair pulled back as loose as it was it partly covered her ears. She did her best to ignore their whispers.

Marabell was proud to see Ori standing on her own against Dwalin. The warrior was grinning with fierce delight as he used his forearms and knuckle dusters to block her strikes which had him sliding back under their force. Her mum had mentioned that even though Ori was the youngest of the Company, that she was likely also the strongest and even untrained she wasn’t making it easy for the skilled warrior now that she had gotten over her hesitant start. There was a time during their journey where Ori had trained her mother had said, when her brothers allowed it, along with her mother and the princes. But that had been a long time passed now and since the Battle of Five Armies, has it had become known, there had been nothing but peace.

The fight was over the moment Ori extended her swing enough for Dwalin to get his hand around the handle on her weapon just below the iron hammer and pulled the weapon from her grasp. With a startled cry the young scribe had to quickly catch herself before she headed up face first against the warrior’s chest.

Dwalin for his part laughed. A deep pleasing rumbling sound as he dropped a hand to her shoulder and stepped back. “Not bad. Happy to see ya haven’t gotten too soft with all those books.” Ori blushed a sweet shade of pink but whatever she said it wasn’t loud enough for Marabell to hear.

“Dismissed,” Dwalin’s call had many moving off towards the door. Marabell stood to wait for Ori near the steps. She looked a little dazed, her brown hair tousled and cheeks pink. It was only when Ori’s brown eyes fixed on something just over her shoulder that Marabell realized she had company.

It was the copper bearded dwarf she had fought against. A few others also lingered a few steps up. “Tnor, son of Vnor. At your service,” he formally introduced himself with a bow with a friendly grin.

“Marabell, daughter of Thorin. At yours.” It sounded a little strange to hear herself say it aloud. She had never included her father’s name before in her introductions. She might have just used Baggins however her time in Erebor and her newly found peace with her father was making her feel more inclined to use their dwarfish traditions.

Tnor’s eyes had widened and his gaze had briefly flicked towards Dwalin, but his posture stayed relaxed. He bowed his head. “I wanted to thank you for the fight. Even if you were going easy on me.”

Marabell smiled with a small laugh. “I’m just not used to not killing the things I’m fighting. It’s like pulling punches, but if I miss with a punch I’m not likely to kill someone.”

“All the same. Thank you.” He bowed his head towards Ori as well before he turned and left with the others.

She took Ori’s hand. “Come on, I’m starving.” Ori nodded in agreement. “Dwalin!” She pulled Ori to the stop. The poor thing bumped into her side, still kind of in the haze. “Thank you.”

The warrior grunted. “Both of you train with Kili and Gimli from now on.”

* * *

Marabell felt oddly light as she entered the kitchens after her bath, all her braids returned to their proper places. Though the one around her left ear was still beadless. She’d have to ask her father for it back.

Father. It was strange. After so long of avoiding the word it just seemed to fall right into place and the sudden comfort she got from it was… well it was nice. She was almost excited to see him again, bursting with things she wanted to tell him and ask him about. She wasn’t even angry. It was as if all the anger was just gone.

Her mother always said she worked way too hard holding grudges. That she had a hobbit’s forgiveness with a dwarf’s stubbornness, whatever that meant. Regardless she was happy when she entered the kitchens that morning too late for breakfast and too early for lunch. Would be about right for a second breakfast however.

Bombur wasn’t to be seen when she took a seat in the corner out of everyone’s way. The staff had quickly become used to her random appearances between meals and she didn’t even seen to ask before an elderly dwarrowdam set down a plate of warmed leftovers for her to pick at down on the table under her nose. She thanked the dwarf with a smile before tucking in.  

It was during a lull in activity when Marabell’s ear picked up the sounds of raised voices coming from the back storerooms. She glanced around the room but everyone else seemed focused on their tasks. When there was a loud bang and the sounds of breaking wood she slipped from the seat and padded down the hallway.

The shouting grew louder as she neared Bomber’s office. The words in Khuzdul seemed dark and bitter and she hesitated at the door. Another crash and Marabell pushed it open.

She was surprised to see Bombur, his back to her with hands raised, was the one doing the yelling. Beside the door a splintered old cask had been thrown and a crate nearby clearly had a hole punched in it. There was someone on the ground at the cook’s feet, though she wasn’t sure who.

Bombur jumped when Marabell closed the door with a little more force than necessary to get their attention. “Bell,” the cook looked almost relieved. “Maybe you can talk some sense into his thick skull. Mahal knows he won’t listen to anyone else.”

“Because it’s not your decision to make,” Bofur bit back with none of his normally cheerfulness. He sat slumped against the wall. His hat was missing and he was covered in dust as if he had just come up from the mines. His hair was more gray with dirt than its normal brown and even under all the mess she could clearly see large circles under his eyes and he appeared thinner than when she had last seen him.

To her surprised she realized it hadn’t been since Fili’s party.

Bombur rounded on him again. “You’re going to get yourself killed.” When his brother simply met his stare Bombur’s shoulders dropped and his eyes watered even as he shook his head. “No. We won’t let you just throw it all away.”

“And I’ll not be a burden no more.” Bofur carefully picked himself up off the floor. He moved slowly, a hand firmly placed against his ribs. Bombur watched with sad, lost eyes.

“I just wish you’d see you’re not.” Bombur brushed passed her as he left the room.

Bofur leaned heavily against the back shelves, eyes closed taking deep even breaths. Marabell bit her lip as she slowly approached. He cracked an eye at her. “Don’t mind me, lass. I’m sure ya have more important things to do with your time.”

She frowned as his eye slipped closed again. “When was the last time you had something to eat?” He looked at her again. “Or a bath?” she gave him a teasing smile then and although he didn’t return it, she did notice his eyes lighten just the smallest bit. “Will you sit? I’m going to go make you something to eat before you fall over.”

She waited till he was seated in Bombur’s wide chair before slipping out into the hall. Marabell had spent enough time in the kitchens to have a basic idea where most things were. It was little trouble to move around the other cooks to put together a nice sandwich on a fresh loaf she nicked from the oven. Even managed some lettuce and found a nice ripe tomato to add despite the late season. She added bacon, cheese and cut several thin slices off the finished roast when she thought no one was looking. All the while she kept an eye on the hallway to make sure the normally cheerful dwarf didn’t make a run for it while she was distracted.

She could feel Bombur’s wary eyes on her as she worked but he kept himself occupied with chopping vegetables.

Once satisfied with her work she returned to Bombur’s office with plate in hand. Bofur hadn’t moved from the chair but had placed his head in his hands. He looked up when he heard the dish being place near his elbow.

The sandwich was the best thing Bofur had seen all week and his mouth instantly began to water. He didn’t even care about the dirt on his hands as he reached for it. He stopped just short when he realized that Bell was leaving. “You’re…” She stopped and turned large blue eyes to him. “You’re not going to say anything else?”

Her smile was sad. “I could tell you your family is worried. But I think you already know that.” She seemed to think for a moment. “When you’ve washed up a bit I wouldn’t mind talking with you a bit more. I have something I need to give you still. Just… come see me when you’re ready.”

 


	13. Chapter 13

Marabell found it odd that the door to her father’s suites was open when she entered the royal wing, the guards stationed near its entrance bowing their heads to her as she passed. Several voices drifted out into the hall in pleasant conversation. She paused before her door in indecision, her eyes pulling towards the beam of light coming from the open doorway. Letting her hand drop from the gold handle of her suite she turned towards the sound of her father’s voice.

He was sitting near the hearth facing the door. Dis and Balin sitting across from him with a small tray with tea between them all on the low table. Thorin’s eyes lifted when he caught her movement in the door. “Marabell,” The others turned at the mention of her name.

Dis smiled warmly. “You’re not interrupting anything, dear. Come in and have a seat.”

“Tea?” Balin offered once she was seated on the only other available chair next to Thorin’s. Not that she minded. The tension which had been caught between them was no longer present. Instead there was this new warmth and comfort.

“Ah, no thank you.”

The old dwarf smiled with a bob of his head. “I heard you’ve spent this morning training with Dwalin. I hope my brother wasn’t too hard on you.”

Though she hadn’t mentioned anything before, her left arm was throbbing still even after her bath. The healed wound there would ache for some years yet she guessed. But she wasn’t going to voice her discomfort. She’d just have to work through it. “Oh, I think he learned the first time not to underestimate me,” she answered with a grin.

Dis’s eyes jumped. “You’ve been training with him already? How did we not know this?” She asked her brother who shrugged.

Marabell smiled. “The first time doesn’t count really. Kili dragged me down with him. I think he was hoping to get out of training and planned to use me as a distraction.”

“Did it work?” Thorin took a drink as his eyes lingered on her.

Marabell frowned in thought and she tapped her chin. “You know, I think it did.” At least she didn’t remember watching him fight. It was the same night she had given him his bead and it felt like a lot had happened since then.

Dis chuckled at that. “Doesn’t matter how old they get, my boys will find their way out of anything given half the chance.” Thorin hummed in agreement with a sagely nod.

“That reminds me.” The King Under the Mountain rose from his chair and crossed the room towards his desk. There was the nose of shifting papers and movement before he turned back. On his return he dropped a wrapped bundle into Marabell’s lap, taking his seat once again.

“What’s this?” She pulled back the cloth to reveal a massive fistsize gem. Her mouth fell open at the sight of it and she held it up to the light. It was by far the biggest jewel she had ever seen, let alone held. Even Balin let out a low whistle at the sight of it. “What’s this for?” She asked her father with wide eyes.

“It’s yours.” She might have been mistaken but there might have been a small smile playing along the edges of his lips.

“I- huh? I mean, thanks. I guess. Though I have no idea what I’m going to do with it.”

Dis laughed. “I thought you were always joking,” the princess turned to her brother and advisor. “Hobbits really do care nothing for such things.”

Balin smiled in a wishful way. “Oh, aye. Bilba kept saying that if she couldn’t eat it, smoke it or use it to keep her warm at night what was the of point.”

“I remember her saying that.” Their eyes turned back to Marabell. She had set the gem down on the low table between them. “Though after Erebor she refused to so much as touch gold. When I asked her about it she said it made her feel uneasy.”

There was a solemn silence then between the dwarves. They didn’t speak of Thorin’s gold sickness often and what it had caused him to do. Although there was always the faint worry that it might come about again the whole kingdom had taken precautions to make sure the kingdoms wealth was spread out so that no one dwarf would be tempted to such greed again.

Thorin leaned forward, picking the gem up. “You may do whatever you wish with it. Even give it away should you choose. However it would please me if you kept it as your first find.” He held the crystal back out towards her with an expectant look.

She took it back with a frown. “I don’t understand.”

“Ya hear it, lass.” Balin nodded his head towards the gem. “We call it the crystal song. Very few among us have the gift anymore. Each dwarf hears it a little different but I hear its a lovely things to behold.”

“The song…” Marabell’s eyes unfocused. The crystal in her hand was silent but she could still remember the sound she had heard singing muffled within the rock. “It was like it was calling.”

Thorin nodded. “Once removed from the rock the singing always stops and they say the larger the deposit, the louder the song. From the size of it you must have been drawn to it since you entered Erebor.”

Marabell remembered the few times her feet at taken her in that direction without really meaning to go there. The time Thorin had found her she had gone to the mines with a purpose in mind but had gotten caught up tracing the sound through the shafts that she had forgotten all about it.

Balin set down his cup. “The mines are dangerous. Should you hear the song again, you let us know. Alright, lass?”

Dis nodded with a slight smile. “We can arrange to have an escort take you through the tunnels. It would make everyone feel a lot better not having to worry about something happening should you be down there on your own.”

“I understand,” The dwobbit got up from her seat with the intention of heading back towards her room. She could feel her father’s eyes on her and before she could second guess her decision she leaned in to give him a quick parting kiss of his bearded cheek before making a dash for the door.

Balin chuckled at his king’s wide eyed expression as his hand rose to his cheek. “That didn’t take long. I thought for sure it would be weeks before the two of you found your peace.”

Dis’s expression was soft and warm at her brother’s bewilderment. “Didn’t you always say that hobbits were quick to forgive?”

He leaned back in his chair. “I think in this case it wasn’t forgiveness, so much as understanding.” His blue eyes lifted towards the still open doorway. He still had a lot to answer for and even more to make up for. But Thorin was determined to do right by his daughter where he had failed his One. When he returned to the stone he would stand proudly before Bilba again and Mahal forgive, he’d see her smile once more.

* * *

Marabell was laid out across her bed with a book she had borrowed tucked under her nose when there was a knock at her door. At first she wasn’t sure if she had heard it or not but when it sounded again with a bit more force she realized she had a visitor.

She wondered as to the time. Supper had passed some time ago she knew but beyond that she hadn’t a clue. She threw a robe on over her sleeping pants and light shirt. It was a long, green heavy thing which covered her all the way to her bare feet and was trimmed with short gray fur.

She opens the door to an empty hallway and it was only when she leaned out that she saw Bofur’s slumped shoulders retreating near the end of the hall.

“Bofur?” she calls softly and the miner turned. She gave him a small smile and beacons with a hand before heading back inside. She leaves the door open as she does so and quickly busies herself building up the fire which she had let burn low since she had planned to settle in for the night. She doesn’t look up when she hears the door close or Bofur’s booted footsteps. Instead she sets an already full kettle over the growing flames. The water was meant for her morning tea, but Marabell will simply get more later. She dusted her hands off on her robe and turns to see him hovering awkwardly in the center of the room, hat in his hands.

He’d washed since she’d seen him. His rich brown hair had been plaited into two thick braids, one down each shoulder. His long mustache had its normal curl in the ends. His clothes, though clean, were worn and in ill repair and his coat had several large holes in it. Eyes somewhere on the ground, he wrung his poor tattered hat looking simply lost.

When she didn’t say anything he shook his head. “I shouldn’t have come. This is foolish.” He turned back towards the door.

“You’re leaving?” Marabell frowned. “Please, Bofur. I’m glad you came. Won’t you sit?”

“It’s just,” he hesitated. “It’s not right. Me being here.”

At that the dwobbit frowned harder, this time more in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Again he shakes his head. “I was daft in coming. This is a foolish idea. I’ll just be go-” Bofur jumped back a step when he nearly ran into the young lass now standing between him and the door. She was a silent as her mother it seemed. With his eyes cast downward he noticed her small bare toes sticking out beneath the edges of gray fur. The tiny flash of skin should not have been able to make him blush so, after all her mother had never worn shoes. Yet here Bofur stood with his cheeks pink over the glimps of the young lass’s bared toes.  

“Please don’t go yet,” she pleaded with those big blue eyes. “You can’t leave till I at least give you your gift.”

He swallowed, hands tight around his hat. “Gift?”

Her hands moved out as if to touch his arm but never quite closed the gap. “Please, won’t you sit? It will only take a moment.” With that she dashed into the back room in a flash of her dressing gown leaving the miner alone by the building fire. He did what she asked though. Dropping down into one of the chairs he pulled his hat back onto his head feeling sorely out of place.

Bofur’s eyes moved around the room. He never thought he’d be in the queen’s suit. Thorin had obviously designed the room with Bilba in mind. He couldn’t help but think that she would have enjoyed the mix of wood and stone coloured greens all over, even if that same thought hurt his heart. He felt like a poor beggar in the richly designed room. This was no place for one such as he.

Marabell returned with a smile and an item clasped to her chest. She took the chair across from him, looking nearly as unsure as he felt. “I think I should do this first,” she started. “Mum left each of you something.”

His head turned up. “She did?” That surprised him. Even if it was something that Bilba would have done.

She nodded. “I was thinking maybe I should give it to Bombur… but for some reason I think it’s better that I give it to you.” She handed him a square checker wooden box. A rattle came from inside when he turned it over. He looked at her curiously and she smiled sadly. “It’s a puzzle box. For Bifur.” She watched his hands play with the sliding panels.

“Aye,” he sighed sadly. “He would have loved this. Thank ya, lass.” He tucked the box into his coat and stood. “If that’s all I should be going-”

Marabell leaned back in her chair with a huff, looking downright annoyed at him as the fire cast a ruddy glow across her face. When his startled eyes met hers her expression softened and she exhaled. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t keep you here if you don’t want to be here. I’m sorry if I’ve done something to offend you or make you feel uneasy. That wasn’t my intent. It’s just...” She shook her head.

Standing before his chair he feel like a bugger for making the lass think she had done something wrong. “Don’t be like that. Yah’ve done nothing wrong.”

“It’s just-” Unable to sit when the dwarf was starting Marabell got to her feet and paced a few steps away before turning back to face him. “I know I’ve said this but I can’t help but feel like we’re friends.” She waved a hand when Bofur opened his mouth. “But I keep forgetting you don’t know me. You’ve only just met me. You wouldn’t even know my favourite colour if a dragon was about to eat you for the answer. But I know about you!” She turned shyly away. “I mean, all of you. I’ve considered you friends in some way for a long time before I even knew your faces. Which makes all this hard!” She threw out her hands in frustration.

“Ah, lass…” Bofur reached out a hand thought he was no where near enough to comfort her. He watched as her shoulders fell.

“Mum would be sad to see you like this and I want to do what I can to help but at the same time… I don’t know how.” She looked up then with wet eyes. “I know you like a smoke in the morning and watching the sun rise. I know your favorite colour is purple. The same colour the sky gets just before the stars come out. I know you care for your brother so much that you’d often be unable to sleep because of it during the quest. I know you love drinking, food and music as much as any hobbit and I know you loved my mum.”

He stilled as his heart gave a painful lurch and he sat back down. He had been working hard to forget. He knew that was wrong and it had take taken him years to stop dreaming those dreams. Dreams where he stepped up to defend her against Thorin’s wrath atop the gates. Dreams of saying the words he had been feeling since he’d seen her first dressed in her patchwork robe. Dreams of being the one she called to late in the evenings when the others were asleep. Marabell’s presence had caused all those thoughts to return. Only this time they were followed by the thought, ‘maybe she’d still be alive’.

Bofur was a carefree dwarf. He loved the simple things and never had great ambitions of wealth. He joined the quest on the promise of free ale and to protect his kin. Bombur had joined in hopes of finding a proper home and life for his growing family. Bifur had joined out of loyalty. Bofur wasn’t going to let either of them go, let alone both, without him. He had nothing waiting for him and little to lose. If he laid down his life for either of them he’d have died a happy dwarf.

But then he’d met her and suddenly he had wanted. But Bofur was not a jealous dwarf. As his brother found his One, married and had children, he had been happy for them. Even knowing he’d likely never have such joy. But Bilba had opened the doors that maybe there was a chance for him to have those things as well. That someone out there would see his worth, even if it was little and want him for it regardless. Even as she’d been drawn away from his side towards their king’s he couldn’t find it in himself to be upset because he was nothing when compared to Thorin.

However he had earned her trust. Her friendship. He had cherished her smile and light. And he had done nothing when all that she loved was turned against her. Her cry and tears atop the stoney gates-

“Was she your One?” Marabell’s hesitant question brought him back. Throat tight, he simply shook his head. “But you loved her?”

At that he nodded. “Aye. Yet I did nothing.” He hung his head. “And now it’s too late. Bilba is gone.”

Marabell’s bare toes appeared at the edge of his blurred sight. They wiggled slightly as if tickled by the fur. “It’s not your fault, Bo.” He looked up sharply at the old nickname. “And if you’re still blaming yourself, well you can stop it.” Marabell couldn’t help the small grin from spreading at the sight of his startled face. “There was more. Actually she went on for some time, but I think you get the message.” His brows furrowed thoughtfully as she crouched down, hugging her knees. “She never blamed any of you for what happened-”

A whistle cut through the air and Marabell moved quickly to retrieve the kettle. Though after a moment’s thought she set it aside and retreated to the dresser where she had stashed the rest of her elven wine. There was more than enough left of the potent drink for her to pour a good helping into two carven mugs.

She pushed the cup into his hands before taking her seat again and regarded him softly. “She wanted nothing more than for you all to be happy. She never held anything that happened against anyone. She understood your reasons.” When his shoulders began to tremor ever so slightly and he sniffed, Marabell pulled her legs up against her chest on the chair and hugged her cup between her hands, taking a small sip. She wanted nothing more than to comfort him. It was an odd feeling, though maybe it was that besides Thorin, her mother had spoken the most about the hatted dwarf. Even still Marabell had a strong desire to reach out to Bofur whenever he was near. The few times she’d been in his presence she’d been down right rude if she thought about it, invading his personal space as she had. Even now as he cried silently she wanted nothing more than to throw her arms about his shoulders and draw him to her chest.

Instead she watched the flames and turned over things she might be able to say which would offer him comfort but none of them seemed right.

Her head lifted when he made a nose in the back of his throat after taking a drink from his cup. “Elven?” He took another sip. “Don’t let Thorin catch ya with this stuff. He’s practically banned it from Erebor after the Mirkwood elves thought it would be fun to gift us with thirty barrels of the stuff. Had nearly every dwarf laid flat out. Thorin thought it was an act of war and would have marched on them, had his army been able to stand.”

Marabell chuckled. “Really? And here I thought dwarves could hold their drink,” she teased.

“Oh, aye. We can, but I don’t think there is a thing on Middle-earth beside them elves capable of drinking this stuff and walking straight.”

She drank from her own cup. “I don’t have much left. You’ll just have to help me finish it before we’re caught then.”

He laughed. “Aye, I might just do that.”

His genuine laughter had her smiling again and already the wine was warming her pleasantly. She would miss it when it was gone. Despite her years spent living with the elves in Rivendell she had never been able to build up a proper tolerance to the drink. Much to the amusement of her cousins there. Especially Elladan and Elrohir.  

“So what is your favorite colour?”

“Huh?”

He grinned then. All lopsided and teethy. “Might need to know. Wouldn’t want to be eaten by a dragon. Not sure I’d taste very good.”

She laughed at that. “No. Not sure how much of a meal you’d make. Far too skinny. Now Bombur, he’d be a right proper size for a dragon.” As she finished she noticed the haunted look in his eyes, realizing she had taken it a bit too far. She bit her lip. “It’s green,” she answered. “My favourite colour is green.”

He nodded into his cup. “I’ll have to remember that.”

Marabell leaned forward, setting her cup down and taking a tin out from her pocket. It was a simple thing. Nothing fancy but knew it to be a personal thing. She had been nervous about giving it to him for quite some time yet. Even her mum had been worried about how it would be received. “This is mum’s gift to you.” Wide, slightly red hazel eyes jumped up to meet hers.

She moved to be kneeling before her chair, keeping the low table between them as she held his eyes. “She noticed during your journey. I don’t remember when she said, but when you were at Beorn she saw you washing out your gloves” She dropped her gaze to his heavily knitted fingerless gloves. They were thick, heavy things and his fingers twitched under her attention even as he turned them from her view. His mother hadn’t gone into detail about what she had seen. Only to say that she had noticed how much his hands hurt him, even if he never said anything aloud.

Already he had gone still again, his breathing shallow. She didn’t push the tin towards him, instead leaving it sitting quietly in the middle of the table. “It’s elven. She hoped that wouldn’t be a problem, but it should help. She wasn’t sure how much it might be able to heal. Said you’d likely do best going to see the elves yourself, but it will ease the pain.”

Marabell wasn’t sure what she expected. His sad, warm smile might not have been it, but she was happy for it. It was better than tears though she still felt the desire to hug him. “Leave it to Bilba to notice such things.” He reached for the tin. “Don’t think even Bombur noticed. Bifur did, I know. Even if he never mentioned it.” He tucked the tin into his coat pocket over his heart. “Thank ya, lass.”

She folded herself back into her chair, taking up her cup again. Bofur did the same and nearly downed the rest without thought causing Marabell to giggle as his cheeks warmed. “Forgot what we were drinking for a moment there,” he admitted with an embarrassed smile.

With the heavy stuff out of the way they slipped into a far more light hearted conversation. For her part Marabell mostly listened, answering Bofur’s silly questions between his often outlandish stories. He asked her what her favorite food was, flower (for he remembered that hobbits love their flowers) and for some of her own, often embarrassing, stories.

They ended up sitting together on the thick rug before the fire passing the quickly fading wine skin between them. Bofur’s hat sat up on the table behind them. The dwarf having proclaimed it too warm to be worn. From the flashed nature of his cheeks, Marabell was akin to agree.

“Your feet are so tiny,” his offhand comment had her tucking them under the edges of her gown. “No, no. I just keep expected them to be bigger.” He frowned. “That also didn’t come out right.”

“They aren’t very hobbit like, I know.” She shifted self consciously.

“Doesn’t make them anything to be ashamed of,” he assured at her downcast face. He reached out for her hand, giving it a small squeeze. “It’s just a part of who ya are.”

“But its easy for you. You’re a dwarf.” Her hand moved within his though she didn’t pull it away. “You know where you belong. You have a whole mountain full of- of you! But there is only one me. Where do I belong?”

“Why can’t you belong here?” he asked with a confused tilt to his head.

“Because I’m not blind. I hear the whispers and the pointed looks. Being a princess might keep them from saying things directly to my face but I know I’ll never be enough for any of them to accept.”

“Of course not.” Her mouth dropped open causing him to grin. He continued before she took the comment to heart. “Ya’ll never be dwarf enough for them, anymore than ya’d be hobbit enough for the hobbits. It’s like a bear wanting to be a man. It’s still just a bear.”

“Tell that to Beorn,” she muttered causing him to laugh.

“I thought ya had already figured that out, lass.” He nodded to her left ear. The family braid done in a fashion to show off the point of her ear. “My point is that you are you and bugger the others who don’t accept ya for it.”

She blamed the drink and Bofur’s kind, sweet smile, and even sweeter words. She reach over, slipping her arms around his shoulder to press herself against him in a hug. With her face turned into his coat she could still smell the dust from the mines below the softer smell of whatever soap he had used to bath with. She fought with herself not to cry when his arms came up and around to hold her softly. She might have imaged the tickle of his mustache against her neck but the sudden brightness from the hallway had her blinking and pulling away.

“Marabell?” Her father’s deep voice rumbled as she blinked towards the shadow standing in her doorway. “What is going on here?”


	14. Chapter 14

Bofur was lucky, he thought, that his back was to the doorway. Thorin had no way to see his panicked, guilty expression that way. He swallowed thickly. He knew that coming had been a poor idea. It had been wrong for him to be in her room alone and so late at night. It had been worse to let down his guard and allow Marabell to get so close. Not that he could help it, as drawn to her as he was.

But where Bofur hadn’t been a jealous dwarf. Thorin had been.

Marabell was working on pulling herself shakily to her feet by the time he had replaced his hat and turned towards his king. He was distracted a moment when the dwobbit’s small hand latched onto his arm for support and he was forced to reach out a hand to keep her from falling back to the floor.

The sound of the door slamming had both of them jumping as Thorin used a little more force than was necessary in closing it. “I’ll ask you again. What is going on here?” His eyes narrowed. “Have you been drinking?”

His daughter seemed not to be listening and she rested her forehead against Bofur’s arm as she waited for the room to stop spinning. “Wow, must have been more left than I thought,” she mumbled before releasing the miner to sit back in her chair.

The delay was not helping Thorin’s darkening scowl either and although his cold blue eyes had moved with concern towards his daughter, they remained eveningly fixed on Bofur’s face. He would not defend himself should Thorin wish to make an issue of his presence, however he’d make a point to defend Marabell who had only been trying to cheer him up.

As Thorin stode further into the room and the gathering a chairs near the fire, Bofur drew himself taller. The empty wine skin laid on the floor near his feet. It’s delicate silver spout and dark markings clearly said it was of elven make and he could see the moment Thorin noticed it. “It’s late,” his king said roughly. “I think it’s best for you to leave.” Thorin’s hard eyes bore into his own.

Marabell was frowning, eyes moving between the pair. “It’s not that late. He can stay if you wants.”

Thorin’s face was all stone as he glanced towards his daughter. “It’s well past mid-night.”

“Oh,” her mouth stayed in its pouted shape for a moment before she huffed. “Well it’s not like I can tell that without a clock or a window,” she crossed her arms. “Also why are you here then if it’s so late? I don’t remember you knocking either.”

“I did knock, but you obviously distracted.” Thorin’s eyes cut back towards the dwarf in question.

Marabell for her part was frowning, her brows drawn down as she looked between the pair with puzzled bemusement. She blinked wine hazed eyes slowly before shaking her head. “I think it’s best if I go to bed.” She pulled herself carefully to her feet. Mindful of how the room moved when she did do. She laid a hand on Bofur’s arm as she passed, giving him a soft smile which had him fitting down his own grin. “Thank you, Bofur.” Her hand dropped as she walked towards Thorin.

The king for his part remained tall and rigid though Bofur saw the moment he eased down just a bit when his daughter leaned up to place a kiss onto his bearded cheek with a quiet goodnight.

“Mara?” Thorin called after her just as she reached her bedroom door. She turned towards them in the doorway, her small hands holding the frame as she rested her flushed cheek against the stone. Bofur knew it was wrong for him to think she looked simply sweet standing there like that in her furred robe which had slipped open to relieve her sleeping clothes while her father stood near by. Bofur thought she’d look even sweeter if she didn’t have her braids. At his side his hands twitched.

Thorin’s long stride closed the distance between the pair and he was slipping something into her hands. Bofur couldn’t see was it was but Bell smiled up at Thorin who leaned down to rest his forehead against hers before bidding her a goodnight and closing the door.

The silence which filled the room was nearly palatable. Bofur was no coward, yet as his king stood there with his back to him still facing his daughter’s bedroom door he did briefly consider making a move for the door. Not that it would have helped any.

Thorin turned slowly, his face nearly unreadable as he nodded towards the hallway. Bofur followed his king out and when Thorin’s back turned towards his own rooms just a bit further down the hall, Bofur knew he had little option other than to follow.

Thorin waited just inside the door, closing it behind him when he entered.

* * *

Her father was absent for breakfast in the morning. Which was fine since she was still nursing a headache and didn’t remember getting to bed. All she knew was that she woke up with her Durin bead clasped tightly in her hand to the point where she had had the indent in her palm. It now sat back in its place at the end of her family braid.

Kili was also missing but he had gone out with Dwalin on a patrol late in the night and wouldn’t return till sometime that afternoon.

Fili was looking over a handful of papers with a tight frown across the breakfast table from her. A hand stroked down his beard as he gave a small shake of his head.

“What is so important that it must be done at the dining table?” Dis asked with an exasperated sigh. “Surely it can wait.”

He rose his eyes from the massive he had been reading. “The council convened at first light this morning and these just came in from Dale. Apparently they’ve been sitting on someone’s desk for the last week.” His hand came down against the table. “Guests are going to be arriving later this morning for Durin’s Day and we hadn’t even had time to get their rooms set yet. We didn’t expect anyone for another few days at least.”

Dis hummed, taking one of the papers from her son’s hand. “We can delay them long enough to get their rooms ready if we give them a small tour and a sit down lunch in the grand hall.”

Fili frowned in thought. “We’ll have to let the kitchens know. They won’t have anything planned for this many extra people.”

“I can go.” The pair turned to Marabell. “I can let the kitchens know they’ll need to cook more,” she offered earnestly wanting to help. “That way you can get the rest ready.”

“Are you sure?” Dis replaced the paper back to the stack. “You don’t need to let this interrupt your plans for the day.”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t mind.” Besides, she tended to end up there for elevenses anyways and Bombur had this smoothy he made with chilled heavy cream which would help to ease the banging in her head.

After she finished her plate, Marabell headed off towards the kitchen. Her feet carried her down the now familiar hallways. She smiled kindly to those she passed. Few returned the gesture though most simply eyed her in passing. She took a deep breath when one group began to speak in whispered Khuzdul and did her best not to let it get to her. She thought that after years in the Shire she would be used to such gossip. But Bofur was right, she wasn’t a dwarf or a hobbit. She needed to focus more on being herself and less on being something she could never be. She needed to put people like that out of her thoughts.

At a normally busy intersection Marabell’s sharp ears picked up an unusual gathering a people coming from the direction of the throne room. It was a place she had only been to once and had gotten used to avoiding. Now her feet took her curiously towards the commotion.

She moved silently and carefully around the gathering. Marabell came out onto a walkway below the throne but it was clear the raised voices were coming from up above. Even in Khuzdul she recognized her father’s commanding tone.

Squeezing along the wall, Marabell worked her way around the dwarves. “Excuse me,” she eased her away around one particularly round dwarf. A few gave her as much room to pass as they could and she gave those do did a thankful smile.

She had worked herself along the walkway enough to see up onto the jetting platform of the throne. Cutting a powerful figure, her father stood before the stone seat. A heavy black iron and golden crown rested against his brow. His cloak was coal black and trimmed in thick brown fur. Dwalin stood with his hands resting on the butt of his warhammer to Thorin’s right. Both had their eyes on the kneeling dwarf before them.

Marabell continued to move closer. She was almost on the main walkway when shouting echoed in from the great hall followed by a mighty roar. Dwalin swung his hammer up onto his shoulder, taking several steps forward towards the massive open doorway to defend his king. There was a cry and the sound of crashing metal before a massive furred form charged into the room.

The dwarves on the walkways began to flee back with frightful cries as the beast reared. Dwalin was quickly before it, hammer in hand with a mighty war cry.

“Stop!” Marabell dashed forward, throwing herself against Dwalin to keep him from swinging his weapon.

She managed to throw him off balance enough to halt his attack but the warrior snarled as he threw her to the side, “Get out of the way.”

Thorin was coming forward now with his sword drawn calling for her to get back. Marabell returned to her feet, placing herself between the warrior and king and the roaring beast.. “No! It’s Beorn!” she called out. Though something was clearly wrong. The mighty skinchanger behind her reared up again. This time with a wild shake of his head. When he landed hard back down onto his forepaws, mouth gaping with wet slobber, he dislodged something clinging to his back.

The bundle hit the stone floor with a whimper of pain, curling onto its side a breath before pushing itself up slowly onto its hands and knees. It rose a head of filthy brown curls with wide, tried blue eyes. “Don’t, he’s hurt!” He pleaded.

“Frodo!” Marabell skirted around the massive bear. Already more dwarven guards were rushing up the platform to circle tightly around the skinchanger. Beorn roared and swung out a paw knocking several onto their backs. Thorin was beside her, pulling both her and Frodo onto their feet and towards the relative safety of the throne.

“Don’t hurt him,” The hobbit begged weakly. “He’s not himself. We were attacked.”

Thorin’s eyes were harsh, his lips pulled back in a snarl but he barked out several orders in Khuzdul. The guards shouted as one, taking out their shields and stepping together to form a wall. Beorn was clearly weakening. He swayed, turning in circles with snarls and snapping teeth. The guards continued to push him back, driving him down the walkway and into the wider front entry with its towering walls.  

Dwalin stepped back to their side as his warriors advanced. “What should we do with him?” he asked Thorin, eyes fixed on the massive bear.

“He’ll tire soon enough. Get him somewhere secure and then get Oin. See what we can do to help him.” His arm wrapped tightly around his daughter’s shoulder. “Keep me posted.” He waited for Dwalin’s answering grunt before pulling Marabell and their new guest down from the throne and into the nearest council chamber once the path was clear.

He stepped back as Marabell helped the small dark haired hobbit into a chair. The room was dark and cold, the fire unlit. Yet even so Thorin could see that the hobbit was shaking badly and poorly dressed for the season. He pulled his large hairy feet with bloodied soles up onto the chair to hug his knees as he softly answered Marabell’s queries. His daughter turned her worried eyes towards him, a sudden spark of some idea moving behind her eyes. “Give me your cloak,” she ordered, holding out an impatient hand.

He blinked at her for a second before he realized what it was she was asking for. His gaze drifted towards the quivering form looking so terrible small in the stone chair. He unclasped the heavy drapings from his armor, catching the fabric as it fell and ignored Marabell’s outstretched hand. His boots echoed as he closed the distance to lay the fur mantle across the hobbit’s shoulder. The young hobbit was instantly swallowed by it, turning large eyes up.

“Y-you’re the king.” Thorin wasn’t sure it was possible for the hobbit’s eyes to get larger but they did.

Thorin gave the boy a kindly smile. “Yes, and I welcome you to my mountain, master hobbit.”

Frodo’s eyes jumped back and forth between them. Marabell could see her cousin’s thoughts hopping about. He had always been a precocious lad and she knew she would get peppered with questions later. “What are you going to do with him?” Frodo asked worriedly.

“Nothing,” Thorin assured. “Beorn is a friend of Erebor. While he may not have always like our kind, he has never turned us away in our need either.” Thorin knelt down to meet the young hobbit’s gaze. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Frodo cleared his throat and nodded. If he was intimidated by Thorin he didn’t show it. “We were attacked outside of Mirkwood. The orcs must have known we were coming and ambushed us just outside the trees. I was riding Beorn with Sam when he was hit. And I-I don’t know. He just went mad. Sam was thrown off and it was all I could do to hold on.”

“You did well, master hobbit.” Thorin nodded. “And the others? I take it that the wizard was travelling with you?”

“Yes. The others are likely with him.” Though both could see the uncertainty in his eyes.

A shadow darkened the doorway as Fili came in. “While I was hoping to delay our guests till their rooms were ready, I think the rabid bear in the entry was a bit much.”

Thorin gave his nephew a look. “Beorn was attacked by orcs. He’s likely been poisoned. They weren’t the only ones either. Dwalin and Kili came across the remains of a caravan coming from the Hills. They found a survivor hidden in a upturned chest. Said the orcs came down on them from the north. They took those they didn’t kill.”

“But it’s almost Durin’s Day!” Fili cast out a hand. “There are hundreds traveling the roads right now. Not all of them armed.  If the orcs have decided to come south now then they will have their choice of victims.”

Thorin held a hand up to still Fili’s protests. “Which is why I have Dwalin putting together larger patrols. We’ve increased the number of scouts along our northern edge as well and we’ll have soldiers posted from our gates to the edges of Mirkwood. Once I’m done here I will also be sending out ravens to warn Dain, Thranduil and Bain.”

Fili gave a sharp nod. “I’ll see to our guests then and see if they have any more information.”

“Do that. Marabell?” Thorin turned his attention back to his daughter. “Can I count on you to care for our hobbit friend here? I’ll have our soldiers keep watch for Gandalf and the rest. They’ll send word as soon as we know anymore.”

“Yes, da.”

Thorin smiled at that and reached out a hand to squeeze her shoulder affectionately before leaving the room with Fili.  

Once the dwarves were gone, Marabell pulled Frodo into a tight hug. “I was so worried when I heard what happened. I’m so sorry you got dragged into this because of me.”

He returned the hug with equal vigor. “No. Don’t be. I know it wasn’t your fault.”

She nodded into the fur of her father’s cloak. “Are you hungry, tired or want a bath first?” she asked. “I’d say you can have all three but you’ll likely drown. The tubs here are huge.”

The rose a chuckle from her cousin. “I can wait to sleep a bit longer yet. Though something to eat would be nice.”

“Alright. I was on my way to the kitchens anyways, but how about I get a bath going for you first? I have some snacks squirreled away in my room which should tide you over till I came come back with something right and proper. How does that sound?”

Frodo gave a tired smile. “Perfect.”

It took some doing to get Frodo back to her suites. His steps were unsteady and feet sore. The added bulk, weight and length of Thorin’s cloak wasn’t helping the matter either but Frodo was too cold to want to part with it. His continued gaping at well… everything which had them pausing to look at one thing or another. Much to the amusement of some of the more curious dwarves eager to get a view of the proper little hobbit.

Even her rooms had Frodo’s curious eyes dancing as he marvelled over the stone and wood work. “Are you sure there isn’t more Took in you?” she commented. “No proper Baggin’s would be so interested in anything so un-hobbit like,” she pursed her lips in mock scolding. But her eyes danced with laughter all the same.

“Don’t I have you to blame for that? All your mum’s stories about dwarves and dragons. To think that this was the place.” He looked around in wonder.

Soon enough she had a bath going for Frodo and found of clean, dry clothes which would fit him from her wardrobe. He was lucky she wasn’t overly big into dresses. She left him with a tray of biscuits to nibble on as she dashed for the kitchens.

She came through the doors in a rush and nearly smacked into a dwarf laden with dishes. The two looked at one another wide-eyed from their close call before breathing a sigh and continuing on their way. Marabell, cheeks flushed, ducked her head meekly as she sought out Bombur.

Not that he was hard to miss. He was elbows deep in dough, working it out across a floured counter. He grinned. “You’re early. Didn’t expect to see you for some hours yet.”

“I know. Dis and Fili needed me to pass on a message, but then I got a little caught up. But consider this your warning that some of the guests have arrived earlier than expected and will be in attendance for lunch.”

Bombur’s hands slowed as his mouth dropped open slightly. “And I’m just hearing of this now? How many?”

“Not sure,” she gave a small crooked smile. “Hm, enough to have them panicking?”

He hummed, dusting off his hands off on his apron as he moved about the kitchen. Another cook wordlessly took over the task of kneading as Marabell followed in the red dwarf’s wake. “If they are panicked than there are likely a few important figures as well. I’d hate to over cook, though.”

“Oh!” Marabell tapped at his arm. “I wouldn’t worry about that. My cousin is here. Beorn too. And I’m sure the others will be hungry as well when they arrive. You know how hobbits eat.”

Bombur smiled, giving her a pat on the back. “That I do. But they found your cousin? That’s good to hear. I hope he is alright?”

She nodded. “Nothing that some good cooking, a bath and a long nap can’t fix. If I can I’d like to bring something up for him to eat. He’s staying with me for now. Thorin and the others are kind of busy and I haven’t seen Dis yet. So I’m not sure where he’s going to stay… but for now he’s fine in my rooms.”

Bombur hummed. “I’ll see what I have left from breakfast. Lunch’s soup might even be ready. I’ll have it brought up to your room. Go keep your cousin company. I know how worried you’ve been for him.”

Marabell gave him a thankful smile. “Oh! How was Bofur this morning? Was he feeling any better?” He likely had been suffering from the same headache as had.

“Don’t know. He didn’t come home last night.”

“He didn’t?” Marabell asked slowly. “Is he alright? Did something happen?”

Bombur shrugged, though he wouldn’t meet her eyes. “It’s not the first time. He’s been sleeping in Bifur’s old workshop more often than not. Says he doesn’t want to be in Tanil’s or I’s way with the babe on the way. I tell him he’s not but the ruddy fool won’t listen.” He stopped, his hands resting on his round stomach. He turned to her slowly and a little uneasy. “Thank you. For whatever it was you said to him yesterday. I’m not sure when things got this bad but…” His shoulders dropped. “I think we’ve been too caught up to see it,” he sniffed. “He’s my brother and I was too busy to see him hurtin’.”

“Oh, hey.” Marabell reached out, placing a comforting hand on either of the dwarf’s arms. “The important thing is that you see it now-” The air was crushed from her lungs as Bombur pulled her into a crushing hug that had her feet off the ground.

Marabell wasn’t sure, but she felt like something had changed. Or shifted. Moved? Regardless whatever it was it felt like it was the reason she was standing in front of what looked like an abandoned storefront carved into the edge of the market. Marabell was also shocked to realize that the area the dwarves now claimed for their stalls and shops had, at one point, been the same place where Smaug had slept within his mountains of gold.

She had to admit that she hadn’t been paying much attention when she first wandered into the market that first day. Now dwarves called out to her as she passed by their shops. She politely smiled but continued passed. Bombur had said it would be easy enough to spot. It was carve into the wall under one of the overhead pathways and had a large front display which would be shuttered closed. Even if she couldn’t read the carved runes over the doorway he said to look for a painted red dragon on the door.  

So here she stood, unsure if she should knock or go right in or if he’d even be there. Frodo would be done with his bath soon and Marabell had given Bombur permission to put the food in the sitting room by the fire if there wasn’t an answer at the door (She wasn’t sure if Frodo would be done at that point or if he’d bother answering the door himself.) But she didn’t want to leave him there alone for long. However the idea of Bofur not going home last night didn’t sit very well with her and she had to at least check up on him to make sure he was alright before she got back to her cousin and Bombur would have done it himself but with the extra guests coming he was needed in the kitchens.

In the end she knocked and waited, eyes moving around casually. Although when she noticed a number of dwarves watching her she ducked down her head and hoped Bofur would answer the door soon.

She had just raised her hand to knock again thinking maybe she hadn’t done so loud enough when there was a muffled noise on the other side. The door came open to Bofur, clothes rumbled from sleep, hat ascue with his pipe between his teeth. He blinked sleep filled eyes at her only to nearly closed the door again, convinced he was seeing things when Marabell tilted her head just so and he realized she was actually standing right there.

His teeth came down on his pipe with a click and he straightened out his hat.

Marabell smiled at his bewilderment, yet was still keenly aware that they were being watched. It seemed like everything she did outside that privacy of her own room was watched, judged and found wanting. But she wasn’t going to let them get to her. Squaring her shoulders she gave him her brightest smile and asked if she could come in.

Still not fully aware, the miner stepped aside and let the little dwobbit enter the closed shop.

It was dimly lit inside the front entry of the store. Dust motes dotted the air in what light there was. The metal shutters muted most of the sound from but not all. There were shelves and cases covered with years worth of dust, many still having toys in them. The sight made Marabell frown and she walked over to the largest of the displayed which houses a large, now grey, dragon.

It was an impressive piece of work. With care she wiped the dust from its snout to reveal ruby red paint underneath. Each scale had been crafted to perfection, every joint right down to the knuckles on the claws moved with just enough resistance to be poseable but not limp. The wings had been made from a thin leather tempered to be strong enough to survive a child’s rough handling. “It’s beautiful.”

Bofur shifted behind her. “It was the first thing Bifur made when he opened the store. Everyday someone would come to buy it, but he always refused to sell it.”

Marabell looked around at the other cases. She coughed, covering her mouth when she cleaned the glass of one display with her sleeve. It was filled with bright and colourful toys of all kinds. Small painted figures, puzzles and tops. “What happened?” she asked as she lowered her hand.

With a cheerless shrug the miner turned and headed into the back workshop. Marabell followed with a pensive frown. “Why not sell the other toys or give them away? It’s sad to see them looking so… forgotten when Bifur must have put so much love into them.”

There was a lit lamp sitting on the workbench amongst the scattered tools. There was far less dust here. The area was more lived in than the front of the shop. Several half finished toys and carvings sat about the table. Bifur’s puzzle box among them. However her blue eyes were drawn to the delicate wooden carving of a rose in full bloom. Not a simple raised image on a disk of wood, but a true flower looking so finely detailed that it might have bloom right from the wood itself. “It’s beautiful,” she breathed.

Bofur turned at that. His eyes widening. He had forgotten all about the flower. As he did most nights he couldn’t sleep he set his hands to work with a knife and a bit of wood with no set purpose in mind. When he’d finally drawn himself from his thoughts he had found himself putting the last touches of the life-like rose. He had been thinking about what colour he should paint it but then it had completely slipped his mind.

Marabell reluctantly returned the flower to where she had found it. Her eyes slipped to the pile of worn ratty blankets on the floor where the miner had obviously taken to sleeping. Bofur did his best not to notice her thoughts as he let himself slip down the back wall to sit on the floor beside his rough bed. He moved to take a draw from his pipe only to find it spent.

She took the only stool facing him as he did anything to avoid seeing the sad pitiful look on her face. He didn’t want her pity. He had no right to anything from her.

Yet he wanted her to do something. Say something. Anything to remove the silence which hung around him like a cloud. Sounds from the market drifted in as they did but there was no one thing which stood out over the rest. It was all mumbled and broken like a bubbling river.

“Bofur,” her soft voice brought up his head.

“I’m sorry, lass. I’m not much for company right now.” He looked away as she worried her lip.

“Would you like me to leave?” she offered and he was torn between begging her to stay and forcing her out the door if only to give his mind some peace.

As he often did he let his mouth decide. “I still I see them. Their ghosts. At night they call out for help but I can’t never reach them. Sometimes they fall in battle and they are all blood and bone and gone.” He tugged his hat down. He wasn’t sure if it was for comfort’s sake or to hide. “Have ya ever failed someone ya love?” Bofur raised up the palm of his hand, then clenched it into a fist and knocking it against his breastbone. “It hurts. Right here. And nothing will ease their ghosts.” His throat was tight yet there were no tears.

The rustle of fabric and sunkissed hands upon his closed fist. Marabell’s eyes sought his. This pain, this hurt ran far deeper than she realized and while she understood grief, she feared she wasn’t capable of leading the downcast dwarf back to the light again. But she would try. For her mother and for him, she would do what she could and prayed it would be enough.

 


	15. Chapter 15

In the end all it took was her telling Bofur that he needed to return home to get the miner moving again. Maybe the order worked only because his mind was too so tried to protest, but he did as asked. Picking up what few things he had in the shop, he headed for the door. He left first in almost a daze, leaving the key in the lock and leaving her to close it behind herself. By the time she was turning the key she had already lost sight of him in the crowd.

Frodo was sitting by the fire eyeing the plated food as if he could eat it through sight alone. “Please tell me you haven’t been waiting for me?!” All she received in response was a sheepish shrug. “Oh, please, Frodo eat. I’m so sorry to make you wait like that.”

“Mm-t’s mmmkey,” the hobbit answered around the mouthful of a biscuit he quickly shoved into his mouth.

Marabell headed for the bath to wash the dust from her hands before joining her cousin by the fire. She ate across from him at he worked his way through a cooled bowl of soup. “Take your time. I can always ask Bombur for more if we manage to eat through all this.” Bombur hadn’t been joking when he said he’d have someone bring it up. There was enough laid out on the low table that it must have taken at least three dwarves to bring it all up. Marabell selected a particularly meaty looking sandwich and tucked in.  

Frodo was one his third when there was a firm knock at her door. Marabell set down her meal and opened the stone door to reveal Dis’s calm face.

“I've come to make sure our newest little guest has everything he needs.” At this Frodo looked over with large eyes. Dis’s face broken into a smile. “Why, isn't he a sweet little thing.” Her cousin blushed as he ducked his head back towards his meal. The princess chuckled coming into the room her eyes fixed on the young hobbit.

She helped herself to a chair as Marabell returned to her own. “I have never had the pleasure of meeting a hobbit before though I have heard much about your race.” At Marabell's look Dis just smiled. “You know what I mean, dear. But where are my manners. Dis, at your service.” She nodded her head regally in place of a bow.

Frodo set his plate back onto the table, tucking his lands into his lap. “Frodo Baggins, at yours.”

“Forgive me but I feel compelled to ask, how old are you, dear?”

“Twenty-one,” he answered nervously.

It was Dis’s turn to look wide eyed as she turned to Marabell. Marabell for her part gave the older princess a tight lipped grin and nodded. The princess looked distressed at this. “And the others?” Her hand covered her mouth when she nodded again. “They took children?” She looked downright murderous as she slipped into several dark phrases in Khuzdul.

Marabell looked worriedly at her cousin’s downcast eyes. “I’m sure Gandalf is with the others and they’ll be here soon.”

“Indeed.” Dis rose from her chair. “Are you sure you wouldn't like your own room? I can have it arranged if you’d prefer it.”

When Frodo shifted in his chair Marabell answered in his place, knowing his mind. “Don’t worry, Dis. I’m sure everyone has enough to deal with with all the guests arriving. Frodo will be fine here for the night.”

The princess hummed. “If you are sure.” When she rose from her chair Frodo moved to stand as well. She smiled then. “Such manners.” Dis bowed her head. “I just wished to stop by to check on the both of you. I hope to see you at breakfast.”

Marabell and Frodo passed the rest of the day catching up, though Frodo pointedly didn’t mention anything about the attack or orcs, and played hands of cards to pass the time. It wasn’t until they both laid in bed with a low candle burning that they seemed to be able to voice the things they had both been wanting to ask all day.

Frodo was curled onto his side facing her with a spare pillow hugged tightly to his chest. “Do you think the others will be alright?”

Marabell smiled reassuringly, her hands tucked up against her cheek as she faced him. She had taken her braids out before bed, putting her hair back into a single long braid she found kept her hair from tangling in her sleep. “They’re with Gandalf. I’m sure they’re fine.”

The young hobbit hummed. “The king… he’s your?” Marabell nodded. “You look like him,” he commented shyly and she smiled.

“I’ve noticed.”

He hummed again. They lapsed into silence and she let her eyes close. They hadn’t done this since Frodo was a fauntling and he used to come over for visit. He had always been a curious lad and had never thought less of her for not being fully hobbit. He had often wondered if having him around was what having a little brother would have been liked and was always sad to see him go.

“He’s kind of scary.” Frodo muttered with a blushed. “I mean,” he fidgeted. “He’s kind of how I imagined. Bigger though.”

“He is tall for a dwarf,” she agreed.

“No,” he shook his head against his pillow. “Like… he fills the room. Makes everyone else look smaller.”

She smiled. “He does,” she said almost proudly. Her smile faded. “Do you want to talk about it?” He appeared to think about it before shaking his head. Marabell wasn’t going to press if Frodo wasn’t ready to talk about what had happen since he had been taken from the Shire. Marabell knew, not first hand thankfully but through first hand stories, the cruelty of orcs.

“Is Beorn going to be okay?” His quiet voice reached her.

She nodded against her hand. “I’m sure they’re going to do everything they can for him.”

“And Bag End..?”

“It’s gone,” she felt her eyes tear and shrugged. “I’m not sure… They said it was burned.”

“Then…” His wide blue eyes looked so utterly lost.

Marabell reached across the space to take his hand. “We’ll figure something out. Maybe it can be rebuilt. Once the others get here we’ll make plans to get you back to the Shire and we’ll figure it out from there.”

He squeezed her hand. “But, without Beg End… where will I go?”

She opened her mouth, only to close it again. She wasn’t sure. Her mum had been the one to arrange everything that had allowed Frodo to live in Bag End despite his young age. Really the hobbit should not have been living alone but their neighbor Hamfast Gamgee and his wife had taken an interest in the boy when he became close friends to their youngest and made sure to check in on him regularly to make sure he was doing well.

“I don’t want to return to Brandy Hall…” he said in a confining whisper.

She gave him a sad smile. “I know. We’ll figure something out.” He yawned then. “Get some sleep,” she said as she blew out the candle and they settled into the heavy covers.

In the morning she slipped from the bed before Frodo had awoken. She washed her face and picked up her clothes from the day before with the intent of putting them into the hamper to be washed when she noticed a heavy weight in the one pocket. She blinked in surprise at the large iron key before remember that she had pocketed it after she had closed up Bofur’s store the day before.

She set it down on the vanity as she sat before the mirror to work out her curls and reset her braids for the day. She was nearly finished when she noticed Frodo’s eyes watching her from the nest of blankets he had built up. “Hungry?” He nodded, sitting up.

As she finished her family braid she got an idea which made her smile. “Come over here,” Marabell patted at the empty space on the bench. He did so sleepily and without complaint sat there as she first brushed out his dark locks before waving a single braid around his pointed left ear just like her own, although she had no bead to place on it.

Frodo gave her a curious look as he flicked the small braid. Marabell grinned. “Really it should have a bead but it will help others to know you’re family.”

“But I’m a hobbit.”

She laughed and rose to get dressed. “And that makes us no longer family? Come on. Don’t want to miss breakfast and I was hoping you might be willing to help me with something afterwards.” She dug through her drawers for one of the skirts she remembered packing. She had mostly been wearing pants but today she felt like something a little different was in order.

At first Marabell thought they had missed breakfast. She stood there with Frodo in the open archway with her father’s borrow cloak folded neatly over an arm looking at the empty table in confusion. Had it not been for the handwritten note on the table from Dis stating that everyone had been called away and would not be joining them for first meal Marabell might have just gone down to the kitchens to find something to eat there.

As it was their normal fare was set out in covered dishes along the side table. Sharing a look with her cousin, Marabell shrugged and helped herself.

* * *

“What do you suppose is going on down there?” Dis paused along the upper walkway arching over the bustling marketplace below them. There was what looked to be a dust cloud coming out from one of the stores along the outer wall. Small clusters of morning shoppers stood with sleeves over their noses as they watched whatever was going on.

Balin stopped at her side with a interested hum. “Isn’t that the Red Dragon?”

“Bifur’s old store?” Thorin stepped to his sister’s side. They watched from the upper pathway as a figure came around the front to throw open the sealed shutters.

“I almost forgot about that old toy shop.” His sister sighed wistfully. “I always loved their toys and I’ve missed seeing all the smiling children when I passed through the market. Whyever did they close?”

Balin shifted, slipping his hands into his sleeves. “I believe they closed when Bifur returned to the stone. Bofur found it too difficult to run on his own, I think.”

“That’s so sad,” Dis reached a hand for her brother’s arm. She didn’t often seek comfort while in such a public place but she knew how close the Company had become and although things had shifted over the years they all still keenly felt the loss of one of its members.

The trio silently watched the scene when they spotted a familiar figure moving through the cloud of dust. Balin chuckled. leaning forward. “Looks like our little princess has found something to occupy her time with.” He grinned at Thorin’s tight lipped frown.

Dis clicked her tongue though she smiled. “I told you she needed something to do. She keeps volunteering to help Fili or I. Why not assign her some duties to help set up for Durin’s Day? I’m sure she’d be quite happy for it.” She gestured towards the storefront below as if to make her point.

“Do you think she’s ready?” Thorin asked in a low, uncharacteristically hesitant tone. He watched as his daughter leaned in through the open display to speak with another smaller figure inside. She likely had the hobbit, Frodo, helping her and maybe the miner as well. Though he had mixed feelings about that.

After his talk with Bofur the other night he had thought they had come to an agreement. They had not been on the best of terms since his gold sickness had taken root and he knew Bofur hadn’t followed him into battle under loyalty to him, but to his kin. In the year since they had only spoken a small handful of words to each other and if he had to be honest had thought little of the dwarf since.

However finding the other male alone in his daughter’s room far past an appropriate time and locked in an embrace had stirred something dark within Thorin which he hadn’t felt in years. It had taken all his strength to keep himself from pummeling the miner right there and then. Seeing that they had clearly been drinking hadn’t helped much either.

Thorin had thought he had made it clear to Bofur to keep his distance. Yet here his daughter was cleaning out his unused shop.

“We can start her lessons tomorrow if you have the time. I’ll see what I can find for her to help out with for the festival.” Thorin turned away, Balin and his sister falling back into step behind him. Their guard, standing a respectable distance back, fell into line.

* * *

“Are you truly as craftless as you are beardless?”

Marabell hadn’t even been aware of Vonna stepping out from the milling crowd of watchers till she spoke. The dwobbit had long since grown used to their presence and had tuned out the noise while she worked. From what she could gather there was a general excitement over the store possibly being reopened. Some there were more curious about Frodo. It appeared that few dwarves had ever seen a hobbit before. Others were more interested yet in herself, but no one had approached her as of yet.

The dwobbit turned, broom in hand. She had found a handkerchief to tie over her hair to keep the worse of the dust from it and had opted to keep most of it up in a simple ponytail save for her usual braids. A borrowed apron from one very confused servant set atop her shirts and blouse. Had her mum seen her dressed as such she would have smiled and called her a right hobbit-lass. It was a far cry from her normal pants and vest combo she had picked up from her mum. However there was something freeing about skirts Marabell enjoyed when cleaning.

She blinked large blue eyes at the black haired dwarrowdam. Marabell knew there was at least one insult in her comment, though it lacked its proper effect since she had to think about being offended rather than just being insulted. The crowd around them broke into a rush of whispers which had Marabell looking about. They seemed to be waiting for her to do something.

So Marabell turned back to her sweeping. “What would give you such an idea?”

Vonna’s steely eyes seemed to jump a bit when she didn’t just rush at her baiting. “That you’d have to go so low to find use for yourself, of course.”

Marabell turned with a frown, leaning on her broom just a bit. There was another ripple through the crowd but she ignored it. Over the dwarrowdam’s shoulder Marabell did noticed Bombur’s round form part the crowd with a look of concern. He thankfully kept back as she turned her attention back to the other female.

She knew what Vonna was doing. She had lived long enough in the Shire to experience all kinds of catty and offhanded behavior. Marabell was long passed the point of ‘fists firsts, words later’. She was being tested. Vonna was insulting her honour to see what she would do. Worse she was doing it publicly. It was likely why Bombur hadn’t come forward yet.

There was a bang from inside the shop, followed by a startled yelp and call of apology. When Marabell finally brought her attention back it was to find Vonna impatiently tapping her foot beneath her heavy jeweled dress. The movement went unnoticed by those in the crowd. “It’s sad you feel that way,” Marabell finally replied. “I mean, that you’d think helping a friend is such a lowly thing.”

Vonna bristled but appeared slightly thrown. Marabell continued on, “I guess I could have had someone else do this. But it means more to do it yourself.” She finished with a smile and returned to work.

“For a lowly miner?”

Marabell froze, her back straightening. When she turned again her eyes met Bombur’s across the crowd who had gone as red as his beard and seemed barely able from holding himself back. She gave him the barest of nods before her turned cold eyes to the dwarrowdam. “Last I checked is was that lowly miner, as you put it, who was one of the few brave enough to follow their king when he needed it most and have to thank for all this,” she gestured widely. “Or are dwarves so honourless as to dismiss such deeds?” There was a cry of outrage in the crowd and several shouts in harsh Khuzdul directed to her but she eased back her shoulders.

“Besides,” Marabell continued. “Isn’t it the deed and not the craft which make the dwarf?”

Vonna surprised her with a small, tight smile as she bowed her head. “Indeed,” she answered before turning back into the crowd leaving Marabell blinking after her. That had been an odd encounter, she thought as Frodo slowly walked to her side. He came up just passed her shoulder but had some growing to do yet. Marabell suspected he’d never be as tall as she was however. He look up at her with uneasy blue eyes and dust in his hair. She gave him a reassuring smile.

Bombur was suddenly next to her, a thick arm around her back pushing her in through the doorway of the store and towards the back room and away from prying eyes. It was all she could do not to drop the broom. At least she managed to set it against a wall before she suddenly found herself crushed against his round stomach with little air in her lungs and her feet in the air. “Bombur-” She struggled but he only lifted her higher and gave her a spin.

“Thank you. Thank you, thank you!” His arms threatened to break her in two. “You are a true friend.”

“Um,” Bomfur slowed in his swinging of the dwobbit at the hesitant voice. “Mister dwarf? I think you might be hurting her,” Frodo said from the doorway.

Marabell’s feet were placed back on the ground and she coughed as she fought to catch her breath. Even still she smiled. “Bombur, what’s all this about?”

He took her hands in both of his meaty ones. “You defended my brother.”

She gave him a look as she straightened out the handkerchief on her head. “Of course. Just because he mines for a living doesn’t make him worth any less than anyone else. Besides, he’s a member of the Company.”

He was shaking his head in disbelief. “Some of my cooks were talking about the Red Dragon being open again and had to come down and take a look. Thought for a second my brother had finally decided to leave the mines. Imagine my surprise to find you here cleaning it out. “

“But,” Frodo had a small frown in place. “If you don’t think mining is such a bad thing. Then why would you want him to quite?”

Bomfur regarded the hobbit when a strange fondness before his expression turned a bit more somber. “Because it’s dangerous. The miners know the risks, sure. They work hard so the rest of the mountain survives. When we lived in the Blue Mountains it was the only thing that kept us fed. But he doesn’t need to do that anymore. He used to work the shop with Bifur, only sometimes going down to the mines. He said the work helped him work off energy.” His shoulders slumped. “When Bifur passed he just couldn’t bring himself to open it again. Said it wasn’t the same. He started working the mines more regularly after that.”

“But with all the Company’s gold, why does he work at all?”

Now it was Bombur’s turn to give her a look. “We’re dwarves. It’s not in our blood to do nothing as it is with men. We each have our crafts.”

Marabell gave a thoughtful hum as she turned towards the cluttered workbench. They still had lots of work to do before she would be able to deem the shop workable. Everything still needed to be washes down and organized. Toys needed to be cared for and re-displayed. She had already caught Frodo playing with one of the dragon figures when he had thought she hadn’t been looking.

Her eyes landed on the stunning wooden bloom tucked amongst the rusted and dull tools. Her fingers itched to touch it though she left it where it was.

Bombur wouldn’t be lying to say that he was impressed by how much Bell and her helper had been able to accomplish so far that morning. Though it was coming up on the noon meal he had managed to slip away from the kitchens, his curiosity burning too strongly for him to ignore for long. “Does he know what you’re up to?” He asks with the idea that Bofur likely didn’t. Bell’s bashful smile confirms it. He cannot help his grin. “You going to be at it much longer?”

Marabell and Frodo share a look. When the young hobbit shrugs, his eyes sliding towards a toy top on the counter, the dwobbit gets a knowing look. “I think we’re done for now.”

“Great!” Bombur grins. “I’ll help you tidy up here while you lock up. Then I’ll fix you both something to eat.”

Once their cleaning supplies are neatly place in a corner and the door locked, the trio headed for the kitchens. The staff is instantly taken with the small hobbit, peppering him with questions as he asks about the foods they are making. To Marabell’s amusement she notices several dwarves eyeing Frodo’s dark curls with something akin to envy.

Marabell knows that Frodo has been worried about Beorn and the others, even if he hadn’t said anything at morning. Keeping him busy as she had been had helped him somewhat in that regard but she knew he still wondered what had become of his friends. Maybe it would be a good idea for them to visit Beorn once they had finished and she had a chance to change.

They are halfway through their lunch when Nori made his appearance. “Gandalf’s back.”

* * *

They enter the largest of the council chamber Thorin had decided to use for the sake of privacy to a chorus of cheers. Suddenly Frodo has been enveloped by several very excited, very happy little hobbits. On the other side of the room her father stands apart with Dwalin, Balin and his sister as they watched the reunion.

The group laughed brightly with smiles of joy causing those watching to break out into small grins of their own. Gandalf couldn’t help his low chuckle at the sight of such a joyous reunion. No matter the hardship hobbits seemed to face they were still quick with a smile. It’s not until a dismayed moan of, “Oh, Sam” that the levity dies down and Frodo has his hands in the end of Sam’s uneven chopped golden curls. “What happened to your hair?” At that the dwarves stand a bit straighter.

The last time Marabell had seen the tween she had had wild sunkissed curls about her shoulders. Samantha had normally kept them tied up when she helped her father in the gardens or down in pair pigtails tied with simple ribbons. Now the curled ended just below her pointed ears, a little longer on one side than the other.

Merry and Pippin pulled had back to give the pair some space. Now they both turned away. Merry scratched at the tip of his nose as Pippin’s head turned up to stare at the carved patterns in the ceiling. It’s Gandalf who steps forward and placed a comforting hand on the lass’s shoulder.

“Sam here was grabbed by an orc as we left the trees. Our friends here took it upon themselves to free her from their care. At the small sacrifice of a few curls, it turned out.” The dwarves looked ready to protest that but even they would give up their beards before their lives if needed.

Marabell hadn’t even noticed the small band of elves standing stiffly to the side of the door though they seemed to have only been waiting for the wizard to acknowledge them. As soon as he did they nodded as one and filed out the door. It was hard to miss her father’s and Dwalin’s ease at their departure.

“You don’t need to worry about me, mister Frodo,” she said sternly. “It’ll grow back. I’d much rather lose a bit of my hair than my head.”

Frodo gave her a searching look, making sure she was truly alright. “If you say so, Sam,” he said before pulling back.

Marabell place a hand on her arm. “Don’t worry, I’ll fix it up for you a bit later.” The young hobbit gave her a thankful shy smile.

“What news of Beorn?” The wizard summoned everyone’s attention back to his taller form.

Thorin crossed his arms with a hard look. “Poison. We’ve seen it before in the past. Burns like fire and brings on a battle rage. We’ve had Oin taking care of him since he arrived. Though I’m sure he would be happy for your help if you wish to give it. We’ve had to restrain him to keep him from hurting others or himself.”

Gandalf hummed thoughtfully. “I should like to see him once we are finished here. I fear I bring news. None of which is very pleasant.” He gestured to the table and everyone moved to sit down.

Thorin regarded the wizard with an unreadable expression and bowed his head for him to begin once everyone had been seated. Marabell found herself beside Dis with Balin and his brother across from her. At her side Frodo, Sam, Pippin and Merry sat nervously in the larger chairs. The later two couldn’t seem to keep still either, turning to look at one thing or anything. Even remarking hushedly between themselves about the dwarves within the room.

Gandalf sat opposite of Thorin looking old and tried. It didn’t help that his robes were worn, torn and covered in mud. Much the same could be said for their newest hobbits. Marabell bet they were also hungry and doubt they had had much time to eat since their escape.

“I fear an enemy we thought dead some thirty years is very much alive.”

Thorin growled, “Enough with the dramatics.”

“Bolg, son of Azog,” the wizard stated plainly. “Seems he’s as stubborn about dying as his father had been. He’s been biding his time in Gundabad. It was under his order that the Shire was attacked.”

“But why?” Balin asked when his king remained silent. “The Shire is some distance away. It would not be an easy target for him to attack. Not to mention it’s protected by the rangers and elves.”

“No,” he agreed. “It would not have been an easy thing for him to accomplish.” Gandalf looked about the table. His grey eyes settled on Marabel. “It would seem he’s recently become aware of the true nature of his father’s demise. That it was not Thorin who stuck the final blow as most believe.”

The King Under the Mountain made a noise at the back of his throat as he shook his head. “But why now? It’s been years since the battle.”

“Yes,” the wizard continued. “But it’s still not widely known that is was a hobbit who struck the killing blow, and for a king she wanted to protect.”

Marabell started. “But,” she looked around. “Mum wasn’t there. She left after…” Her eyes lowered to the table before they could met her father’s.

“I fear, my dear, that our burglar might not have told you the whole truth in that regards.” The old wizard’s eyes were warm with sympathy. “It wasn’t until the following day that I escorted her back to the Shire. That despite everything she had suffered, she would not leave till she made sure that she had not come so far in vain.”

Pippin frowned, looking about. “I don’t get it. Why would she stay? I mean, we all know how you cast her out.” The hobbit gestured to the dwarves who flinched in shame. “So why stay?” he asked bluntly, earning an elbow from Merry.

Marabell knew why. “Because they were her dwarves,” she answered with a thoughtful frown. “She wanted to make sure they were okay.”

Gandalf bowed his head. “Indeed.”

Thorin leaned his elbows onto the table to fold his hands together before him. “So he attacked the Shire out of revenge for Bilba killing his father? Then why take the hobbits.” He nodded his head towards the four.

“Not quite. His real plan was to capture Bilba and use her to lure you from Erebor. However when he learned of her passing he turned his attention to her offspring.” He nodded to Marabell. “He had no way of knowing she was your blood, of course. He only knew that Bilba Baggins had produced a child since the battle. He had hoped your Company’s loyalty towards its smallest member would be enough draw you out.”

“We tried to tell them,” Samantha added with wide blue eyes. “But they said we were just trying to trick them.”

Beside her Merry nodded. “They didn’t seem very smart.”

Frodo fidgeted. “They threatened to go back. They were going to hurt the others till we told them who the right Baggins was.” He lowered his eyes. “It seemed better to stay quiet after that and let them think it was me.”

“And a good thing you did too, my boy.” Gandalf agreed. “It gave us the time we need to find you before they were able to bring you back to their fortress.”

“But how did they _know_?” Marabell shifted in her seat. “I mean… it’s not like orcs can just walk around the Shire asking questions.”

“No, my dear. They had help in that regard.”

“Out with it, wizard.” Thorin growled, his patients growing thin.

“Though I do not know who, exactly. I know that it is a dwarf. Or dwarves, I should say”

Dwalin spit out a dark curse. Even his brother’s features darkened. Thorin at the head of the table said nothing. His eyes sharp as chips of ice, his features stony.

Dis gave a heavy sigh. “So we have traitors among us who want my brother dead? That is hardly shocking.”

Gandalf nodded. “No it is not. There has been darkness moving within Middle-earth for years now and it has not been pleased that the line of Durin has survived as long as it has already.” He turned to the dwobbit. “And continues to do so.”

“I would know your plan, wizard.” Thorin’s gaze bore down across the table.

“My plan?” Gandalf gave the dwarf king an innocent look. “What makes you think that I have a plan?”

“Because you always do,” the king replied back.

The old man made a thoughtful noise. “I have have some ideas, yes. However first I would like to see our skinchanger friend. Then we will need to decide how we are going to get these youngsters home.” Everyone turned to the group of hobbits who shifted in their seats under the look.

Except for Pippin who grinned. “So,” he said, feet swinging. “Are we too late for lunch?”


	16. Chapter 16

He left his daughter to take care of the hobbits and retreated back to his study with a headache and an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Bolg should have been dead. Erebor shouldn’t have anymore enemies dogging their shadows, let alone attacking the Shire, in a bid to drive them out into the open.

The orcs had been quiet. Their patrols had few run ins and they had even begun to hold tournaments in order for their warriors to burn off their excess energy. No one had imagined that his people, who had been homeless for so long, working odd jobs wherever they could to feed their families, would grow restless in peace.

He had by no means allowed his kingdom to become complacent within their new home. New warriors had been trained, defences repaired and added. They had stores of food enough to last years if needed. The kingdom might not be as it was before Smaug had attacked but they were by no means weak.

It was likely this fact that had that orc spawn resorting to such underhanded tactics to draw him out. He likely didn’t have the numbers for another direct assault as he had during the Battle of Five Armies. If he wasn’t so uneasy abouting bringing his people through more battles when they had yet to recover their numbers from the last time, Thorin might have considered taking the fight directly to Gundabad.

Dwalin leaned against the wall beside the door with his thick arms crossed and eyes closed waiting for Thorin to give him some kind of order. He wasn’t sure what to ask of him yet and knew that if he’s waiting there than the warrior was in no rush to return to his duties. With the increasing influx of guests his guards would have their work cut out for them till the end of the festivities. Dwalin himself likely hadn’t had much time to rest in the last few days.

His sister sat in one of his office chairs smoking from his pipe since she was forever forgetting her own. She looked thoughtful. Which meant she had something she wished to say. That she hadn’t already likely meant she wasn’t sure how whatever it was she had to stay would be taken.

“They’re just children.”

Dwalin lifted his head when she spoke. Thorin leaned back in his chair. “Yes. I’ll have to write a massive to their parents to inform them that they’re safe.”

“You should let them write something as well. It will mean more coming from them,” Dis suggested before she looked thoughtful again. “Tanil’s due soon,” she gave a wistful sigh. “As much as I am angered that the hobbits were taken from their home, in a way I’m glad.” She grinned at her brother’s startled face. She waved a hand at him. “Just having the younglings in a room makes it so much brighter.” She sighed. “There are so few babes still.”

Thorin frowned. “We are dying,” he felt both their eyes on him. Though they all knew it, few voiced it. Coming from their king it was saddening. “Balin has set up funds to encourage more dwarrowdam to breed. There are some craftwed who have made use of it. But I fear they’re efforts might not be enough and should the orcs pull us into another battle we will only lose more of our numbers.”

Dis took a long pull from his pipe, turning her head away as she blow out the smoke. “I have been considering finding a sire,” she didn’t need to see her brother’s face to know he was looking at her with widened eyes. She gave a small shrug as she knocked the spent ashes from the pipe. “I’m young enough yet and seeing the boys so taken with Marabell… I’m sure they would be quite happy for another sibling.”

Her brother’s brows were drawn low. “Do you have a dwarf in mind?” he asked slowly.

She just gave him a smile. “A few.” She laughed at her brother’s expression before sobering. “Thorin, my Vili has been long to the stone. I have not been without company all these years. Though he will forever be my One till I meet him in the Halls of Waiting, I know he would wish me to be happy.”

Thorin opened his mouth to speak, only to think better of it. He noticed Dwalin’s eyes watching him closely and quirked a brow. The action drew his sister’s attention around and she grinned slyly at the fierce warrior. “How about you, Dwalin? Durin’s Day is coming. Surely you have your eye on a dwarrowdam or two.” When he simply turned his face from them she turned back to her brother. “You haven’t been working him too hard, have you brother? Surely you’ve allowed him enough personal time to find himself a good wife.”

It was the sparkle in her eyes which gave her game away. So his sister was aware of young Ori’s interest in the warrior. He wasn’t sure if he should feel bad for his long time friend or not.

There was a knock on his office door. Dwalin pulled it open without bothering to even ask who it was, simply happy for the distraction. Gandalf was on the other side and entered with Balin trailing behind in his wake.

“How is Beorn?” Thorin asked as he wizard took a seat and Balin moved to stand beside his brother.

“Weak, but he will heal.” He shifted his robes around as he settled in his seat. “I fear there is more we must discuss.”

Thorin inclined his head for him to processed.

Gandalf huffed in a manner which made Dis smile. Like he found it ridiculous that he needed her brother’s permission to speak. She wondered if her brother had done it on purpose.

“When I found the hobbits they had just finished crossing the Misty Mountains. However they were not taken over, but under.”

The king sat a bit taller. “What?”

The wizard nodded. “It seemed that it was a group of hired mercenaries which first captured them from Bag End in the Shire. From there they were taken by horseback to the mountains. Where exactly I am not sure. Only that they were handed over to an orc with several goblins under his command which took them through what’s left of the goblin city and out the other side.”

Dis looked appalled at the thought. They those younglings had been taken to such a place. They were very lucky they hadn’t been harmed in any way.

“It was little effort to relieve them of the hobbits once they had made camp near our dear friend’s forest. Beorn made quick work of the goblins but I fear had I been a day or two later they would have been long gone. From what I overheard they were waiting for a Gundabad scouting party to take them the rest of the way.”

“It was a good thing then that you left when you did,” Balin agreed.

Gandalf turned his old eyes back to the king. “I fear that was not all I overheard.”

Thorin didn’t like the sounds of that. “The fact that the goblins and orcs are on well enough terms as to work together is troubling enough. What else did you hear?”

“It appears I was right. Though I feared I would be. The goblins are taking orders from someone they call the Deep One.”

“The Deep One?” Thorin shared a look between Dwalin and Balin but the brothers shook their heads. They hadn’t heard the name before either.

The wizard made a thoughtful sound. “The orc in their company seemed to scoffed at the name. So I do not believe they are in league with this Deep One as the goblins appear to be but that still raises the question as to who, or what this creature is.”

“I’ll have Ori look through our records to see if there is any mention of this Deep One. If it has been written of before, she will know it.” Balin looked to his king. Thorin nodded his approval even as Gandalf did the same.

“Good, good.” The wizard turned in his seat. “This brings me to another matter of a more delicate nature. I’m interested to know your choice in chaperone for young Samantha Gamgee.”

Thorin frowned. His eyes looked to his sister who seemed equally puzzled. “I was not aware she needed one.”

Gandalf huffed. “She might have been lucky to make it this far in the company of orcs and goblins but as much as your kin value their womenfolk there are still those who might do her harm.”

Though he didn’t like what he was implying, Thorin knew it was not wrong. “For now Marabell is watching the hobbits. We will need to discuss returning them home shortly, though I fear it will need to wait till after Durin’s Day.”

“I fear it will not be as simply as that, Thorin. Winter will be upon us sooner than we may like. I fear Erebor will need to play host to our young hobbits till the passes thaw in the spring.”

Though Thorin wasn’t overly keen on the idea, his sister looked positively excited at the prospect.

“Be that as it may,” the wizard continued. “Young Marabell cannot be expected to watch over the girl that entire time. While I do not believe we have much to worry about from Frodo, I am not so sure about the others.”

“So you wish for me to assign a guard?” Thorin questioned.

Gandalf sighed heavily. “What the girl needs is a chaperone.”

“Forgive me for not seeing the difference,” he replied dryly.

“The difference,” the wizard ground out. “Is that a chaperone has no interest in her virtue.”

The males suddenly looked decidedly more uncomfortable while at the same time angry at the very idea. Dwalin frowned fiercely by the door. “Any dwarf who would do such a thing would be shaved and executed.”

“Yes, but it would be decidedly too late for Sam at that point wouldn’t it?” Gandalf huffed before pausing. His old eyes took in the dwarves about the room before his features slipped into one of utter surprise. “You don’t know,” he said astonished. “But…”

“Out with it wizard,” Thorin growled, his patience low.

Gandalf turned to him slow. “Hobbits mate for life.”

What?” Thorin blinked assuming he had heard wrong.

Gandalf looked equally as puzzled by his ignorance. “Hobbits mate for life. Did Bilba not mention this?” Thorin shook his head perhaps a little too quickly in his surprise.

Dis turned in her chair to better face the wizard. “What would that mean then? Would Samatha be married to the aggressor under hobbit law?”

“In a sense, you could think of it like that,” he reasoned. It took much to surprise the wizard and he was utterly flabbergasted over the turn of events.

Thorin ground out what could have only been a curse and Balin kindly stepped forward. “And what would it fully entail?”

“For one thing you couldn’t kill her aggressor,” Gandalf grumped, crossing his arms like he was upset that they didn’t already know this information. Really they had been traveling with a hobbit for nearly two years, Gandalf was surprised she never mentioned it. Least of all to Thorin who she had mated and married in all but cerimony. “You’d be killing her as well. You couldn’t even exile him.” He had always known that things had been rushed between the pair, driven by their mutual feelings and looming death, but for so much to have gone unsaid... Had they truly believed they would not live to see the end?

“Why not?” Dis asked.

“Because she’d fade.”

A silence fell then as a few of the dwarves exchanged looks. “Fade?”

Gandalf looked exasperated, if not overly angry at their inability to put it together themselves. “Wither away to nothing and die. If she is mated to another hobbit then he would fade as well in the separation much the way Bilba’s father did after her mother’s death. But when they are mated to another race-”

“Only they fade,” Thorin cut in, eyes dark and haunted as he slowly rose from his desk. “She knew…”

The wizard suddenly looked very old and sad for the dwarven king. While he had never been happy for how things had ended, he did not wish to blame everything on the stubbornness of dwarves. Bilba had been just as stubborn in her own way. Even Gandalf had begged her on several occasions to return to Erebor.

Gandalf sighed sadly. “I thought she had told you. I am sorry, friend.”

Thorin nodded, turning to the side to hide his face in the spill of hair. There was far more grey there than there once had been. More lines of his hard face and a greater weight on his shoulders than there ever had been during the quest, when the fate of his people rested there. Gandalf could see how very tired he was and although there was a new light in his eyes that hadn’t been there before he had left, Gandalf knew that there was still a chance that the king might break under the weight of his own grief.

“It is late,” he stood, gathering his robes about him. “I will see myself to my room. We can talk more in the morning.”

* * *

It’s much to Marabell’s surprise that she finds Balin, Ori and Dori at her door first thing in the morning. Samantha is back in the bath, enjoying the overly large tube and a bit of quiet time away from the boys. Not that she doesn’t mind being around them, but after everything the little hobbit lass was enjoying a little peace for herself before she joined back up with Frodo, Merry and Pippin for a tour of Erebor. Though Marabell suspects that the later pair have already been snooping around.

So as Dori steps into her sitting room to wait for the young hobbit, Marabell finds herself being pulled towards Balin’s office a few floors down.

Ori is all small smiles and quiet excitement as she lays out several books, paper, quills and ink across her mentor’s desk. There are three chairs pulled tightly in to share the surface. The dwarrowdam sits as Balin settled in his usual chair leaving Marabell to claim the remaining seat.

They started by quizzing her in her runes. Testing to see what she remembered and checking to see what Khuzdul she might have picked up. Balin is grinning as Ori blushes at some of the more colourful curses she had picked up from her mother but the elderly dwarf assures her it’s a start.

They eat a small meal as they continue her studies throughout the morning. They move away from Khuzdul once they have an understanding of what she knows and instead focus more on edicate. With Durin’s Day approaching she will be meeting many important dwarves and they want her to be a bit more prepared.

She is released for the noon meal which she takes in her father’s suite. The hobbits are in attendance as well bursting with endless energy from the little they had already seen of the kingdom that morning. She listens as Frodo explains this carving he had seen near the front gates, but she’s only half listening. Across the table from her Fili is looking worn and tired. She shares a concerned look with Kili. The dark haired prince shrugs and returns to his meal.  

Marabell doesn’t get the chance to talk to her golden brother. As Kili leads the hobbits away and her fathers deep voice calls out for her to join him in his study. Dis comes through the doors behind her, closing them and Marabell cannot help but feel like she is in some sort of trouble upon seeing their unreadable expressions.

Her father sits down with a heavy sigh as his sister gives him an encouraging look. Marabell eases herself into a chair, hands folded neatly in her lap and waits.

“Dis as expressed an interest in having your help with some of the preparations for Durin’s Day.”

“Really?” the dwobbit perked up, turning eager eyes to her aunt. “I’d love to help.”

Dis chuckled. “See, I told you, brother.”

The king grumbled something lightly under his breath which had his sister smiling still before he cleared his throat. “There is also your coronation which we-”

“Coronation?” Marabell didn’t mean for it to come out as panicked as it did.

Dis placed a soothing hand on her arm. “It’s ceremony mostly, to present you to the people of Erebor. It also demonstrates Thorin’s claim of you as kin and heir. Making it treason for any to claim you are not his blood or act against you.”

Marabell shifted feeling a bit uneasy. “But Fili is his heir,” she corrected when Dis began to shake her head Marabell pressed on. “No. I mean. I can’t - wont - take that from him. I don’t want it. He’s worked his whole life to be worthy enough to take over rule once… when it’s time. I’m not-”

“Mara,” her father interjected. “We’re not asking you to be Queen.”

Dis pursed her lips with a glare towards her brother. “In fact you can’t be queen. Dwarven kingdoms are ruled by the male heir only.”

“Oh,” the dwobbit blinked. “So Fili would still be the real heir.”

“Until you have a son of your own,” Dis added, smirking when both father and daughter’s eyes jerked in her direction.

Marabell worried her bottom lip with downcast eyes. With a shake of her head and gave a heavy sigh. “I doubt that will ever be an issue.”

Dis shushed her brother with a sharp wave of her hand and a pointed look. She leaned forward to place a hand on the crown of Marabell’s bend head. “Whyever would you say that, dear? Do you not wish for children of your own someday.” She ignored the way her brother choked at the thought and sent him a glare.

The dwobbit pulled back with a deep shuddering breath as she straightened, taking her own insecurities and doubts and setting them aside for the moment. “I do,” she confessed. “But that’s besides the point. I’m mixed blood.”

“Dear, that is hardly-”

“No,” she shook her head. “It does matter. Maybe not to you, or da or the Company. But to them,” she cast an arm towards the door. “It matters.”

“Dis,” Thorin gave her a look. His daughter was right, or course. He was proud of her in a way for seeing it, even if it made him sad to know she was aware of the fact that many did have an issue with her mixed birth. He faced his daughter. “You can’t change who you are anymore than the rest of us. Regardless of what they say, you are my daughter. Your sons will be heir to a mighty kingdom should they chose it, but you are correct, we are getting ahead of ourselves. This is simply a formality to officially crown you as a princess of Erebor.”

She appeared a bit more settled at her words. “So, now what?”

“You’ll need a new gown made,” Dis smiled and Thorin lowered his head to his hands but she ignored her brother. “It’s cutting it a bit close, really. We should have done this sooner but things have been a bit of a mess. However I’m sure we’ll find you something worthy enough for you to wear. Balin will walk you through what you’ll need to do, so you can ask him if you have any questions.”

Thorin watched the pair banter back and forth with a heavy, yet contented, heart. Having Marabell near and not at odds with him touched his heart in ways he thought long cold. However there was a question that weighed on his mind though he was unsure how to voice it. There was no rush, either way. His mind said he knew the answer already and just wanted her to confirm it even if his heart is breaking from the fear of it.

To know that Marabell had been right... That the moment he had thrown her from Erebor and his side, he had killed his One in a far crueler, slower manner then driving a sword through her heart ever would have been-

“Da?”

He hadn’t even realized he had begun to cry till he lifted his head to find the vision of his daughter blurred and wavering.  

Dis watched with sorrowful eyes as her niece moved around to desk on quick, silent feet to embrace her father. It was a hard thing to witness, though she was glad to see his tears. For so long Thorin had kept his pain so tightly bottled she had feared for him often and yet no amount of begging had worked to get him to open up even a little about his inner torments. He had just continued on like a living shadow.

True he went to great length to make sure it never clouded his judgement or effected his rule but it was hard on all of them to see their king stop _living_.

But now he smiled, rare still, but it was there if one knew where to look. He fussed and panicked after his daughter to the point where if Dis didn’t feel that having their little spymaster tail after her at all manners of the day wasn’t helping to keep her safe at the moment, she’d have thrown a fit over the way he was acting.

No, her brother was turning out to be a wonderful father. She had always had hoped he would be so lucky. After the birth of her own sons she had feared he’d craftwed his crown or get himself killed trying to bring their kin home, secured in the knowledge that the line of Durin would continue without him. She was happy that hadn’t been the case and that despite everything he had Marabell.

Dis silently left the study. Not at all surprised when she found Dwalin waiting outside and the large warrior fell into step beside her.

* * *

The next few days move in a blur of activity. Marabell spends much of it locked in hurried lessons with Balin and Ori. Training with Dwalin had been placed on hold till after the festivities, much to Ori’s relief and disappointment. Though she’d never say it aloud. All the while the Company did their best to watch over and entertain their smaller guests. Although as a whole the dwarves of Erebor had taken a quick liking to the hobbits. Mostly thanks to Merry and Pippin with their jokes, quick wit and smiles. The duo definitely wasn’t making it very easy for whoever had been tasked to keep an eye on them. That was for sure.

So it really shouldn’t have surprised the King Under the Mountain when he slipped out onto the battlements over the gates to get some air while taking the opportunity to look out over the preparation for Durin’s Day, and found the pair sitting on the ledge with their large, hair feet hanging over sharing a pipe.

Though that quickly disappeared once they noticed the kingly dwarf’s arrival. Merry fought not to cough even as smoke slowly leaked from his nostrils like a tiny wide-eyed dragon. “Your majesty,” he choked out with a bow of his head.

“Highness,” grinned Pippin.

Thorin fought his urge to order them down from the wall as he approached. It wasn’t his place to tell them what they could and couldn’t do, and part of him know that in telling them no, they’d likely want to do it more as his nephews had.

At his continued silence Pippin’s mouth opened as it seemed to have a habit of doing. “We were just discussing the plans for New Shire.”

“It’s a working title,” Merry added.

“Yeah,” Pippin nodded, his curls bobbing as he did so. “I’m sure by the time we have everything set up we’ll have come up with something better.”

“Grander even.”

“More impressive!” The pair smiled.

The king had just gotten out of a four hour meeting and didn’t have it in him to try and puzzle it out himself. “New Shire?” he asked warily.

The pair smiled excitedly. “Over there to the east.” It was Merry who pointed to the hilly, barren lands. “It’s not much now, but give it a few years and it would be a right nice Shire.”

“Yeah, and with Erebor so close we wouldn’t need the rangers since we’d have you strong lot.”

“And we could just call if we needed help - of heavy lifting I would suppose - and I don’t think there are very many wolves here either.”

“Also,” Pippin smiled widely. “We’d be able to give you the help you need.” Merry nodded very seriously at his friends side.

Thorin rubbed his temples. “And what might that be?”

Merry crossed his arms, giving him a look the dwarf would have found funny had his head not been pounding. “We may not be as good as Sam.”

“No, but we’re still hobbits!”

Another sharp nod. “And as hobbits we know how to make things grow.”

“You dwarves, do not.” Pippin crossed his arms as well. They made quite the pair.

Behind him Thorin heard a guard snicker at the sight of his king being berated by the two youngers barely half his size. He had thought his Bilba small sometimes when he held her close and she tucked so perfectly under his chin. He hadn’t the chance to meet hobbit children before. He could only imagine how small they must have been as babes.

When he didn’t say anything in response they took it as a sign to continue. “So then,” Pippin smiled. “We’ll settle down in New Shire.”

“Build us some nice big smials,” added Merry.

“And we’ll help work your fields.”

“Which are being very poorly tended.”

“Very poorly,” confirmed Pippin.

“Under the protection of your mountain.”

Thorin resisted his desire to cross his arms in a defensive matter because really the whole idea was, well, not a bad one. He didn’t think it would work by any means. It had taken a wizard and thirteen dwarves to get one hobbit to leave her comfortable hole and a band of thieves and orcs to take the other four.

And while he did agree that their crops were poorer than they should be so long removed from Smaugs desolation, they had yet to find the cause. Even the Mirkwood elves had been at a loss as to why their yields were so minor. It wasn’t until they had sent work to Rohan for aid that their harvests had improved. Yet they were still no where near where they needed to be to properly support both Erebor and Dale and both kingdoms had been struggling.

He shook his head. It was nonsense. He might be able to enlist a few hobbits from the Shire to stay for a season to help train their farmers, but he knew he’d be lucky to find even one hobbit truly willing to leave their homes permanity.

In the back of his mind, however, Thorin could see his Bilba’s amused grin. She would have cheeked at the idea of a dwarven Shire and he’d have made her her own burrow just like her Bag End with his own hands and sweat. Then he would have set his mind to filling it with small laughter and tiny feet. It could have been a small heaven away from court. Far enough to keep most away, yet always within reach if it was important.

But that was a faded dream. His eyes turned to the stalls, shops and rampways being set up below. The smithing guilds were working to install a smaller forge which would be used to test initiates. The livestock pens were already built against the south face where they would be best sheltered from the wind. The air would be crisp but it only ever added to the events as people drank to warm their blood and laughed all the louder for it.

Tomorrow the other leaders were set to arrive and it would be a long day. He should get some rest.

He left the hobbits to their own devices. He already knew the pair were as bad as Fili and Kili had been as youngers and nearly as adorable, if the cooing he had hear over their presence was anything to go by. Regardless, he’d leave them be to their wild dreams and for whichever dwarf had been assigned to keep an eye on them to find.

* * *

Kili found his brother twirling a dagger he had never seen before between his fingers. “I don’t think I’ve seen that one before,” the remarked, leaning against the short wall his brother sat again.

“What are you doing here?” Fili asked, turning his head up towards the darker prince. Kili didn’t often come up into the rookery unless told to by their uncle or Balin to send a message out. It was warm despite the open areas which allowed the fresh clean air to enter. Overhead the ravens chattered softly, though a few watched with keen eyes. Fili found their presence oddly comforting and was not above confiding in whichever ravens were currently at roost when his mind needed to be eased. Although most of Erebor’s ravens rooted in Ravenhill, there were always a few to be found within the rookery.

Kili slide down the wall to sit on the stone floor beside him, making sure to move over just enough so he could press against his side from thigh to shoulder. “Talk to me, brother.” Kili’s voice was oddly gentle and Fili had been wondering how long it would be before he came looking for proper answers.

Fili took his brother’s hand, interlocking their fingers. It was a gesture of comfort and a way to keep his thoughts grounded. “I’m thinking of asking uncle to return to the Iron Hills with Dain after Durin’s Day.”

His brother turned to him, his hand tightening. “But you’ve only just returned.” Brows lowered, Kili dropped his eyes to the dagger his brother had in his other hand. “You’re running from something. Someone.”

Fili’s smile was sad. He knew that at some point he’d have to tell his brother. If only to keep him from worrying. “I found my One, Kee. I found her. She’s right here and yet, there’s nothing I can do.”

Kili’s wide eyes clouded with confusion. “Your One? Is she…Is she already wed to another?”

The golden prince shook his head. “No, but I will likely have to watch her do so at some point.”

Kili frowned. “I don’t understand. If she’s not married already, then why can’t you court her?” His posture straightened as he had a thought. “Is it Sam?”

“Sam?” Fili laughed despite himself. “No, Kee, it’s not the hobbit.”

“Oh,” Kili leaned back against the wall. “She’s young yet, but she’ll be a fair as our burglar was soon enough.”

“Don’t let uncle hear you say that,” he warned. “Else you’ll never see the hobbit again.”

Kili’s features sombered. “Fee, you’re trying to distract me.” His brother looked at him from the corner of his eye. “Who is it then?”

With a flick of his wrist he tossed the dagger up a short distance before catching it again and returning it back to his boot. His attention dropped to his hands and with a rueful shake of his head he said the name which often didn’t leave his mind. “Marabell.”

He felt his brother stiffen beside him before he suddenly had hands in his hair and Kili was turning him to knock their foreheads together. None too gently either. “Fee…” When his brother released him enough for Fili to meet his eyes he was surprised by the joy he saw there and Kili’s wide, happy grin.

Fili’s brows pulled down as he frowned in confusion. “Kili..?” But his brother was laughing.

“Is this why you’ve been so moppy? It is because Thorin? You’d think out of every dwarf in Erebor you’d be the only one he’d find worthy enough for his daughter.” He was patting him on the shoulder. “And with Durin’s Day in two days! Fee, the timing couldn’t be better if Mahal himself came down to wed the two of you himself.”

He gave his brother a look. “Kili, she’s our cousin. She’s practically our sister.”

Kili’s laughter died a little at that. “Is that what you’re worried about? Fili, why would Mahal make Bell your One if you weren’t supposed to be together?”

Fili leaned back feeling like a weight had been lifted. He hadn’t thought of it like that.


	17. Chapter 17

Marabell was quite content in her current position. Her sheets were comfortable and pleasantly warm. She felt well rested and the ache in her left shoulder which had been bugging her for the last few days was gone. The smaller girl curled against her side made the large bed feel not as empty as it usually did. Even if she did love to lay spread out from time to time. It was nice having another body there to share the space.

So to say Marabell wasn’t overly happy to have Dis come in through her bedroom door would be a bit of an understatement. Worse was that she hadn’t come alone. Two other voices reached her from the sitting room, though Marabell was still too sleep laiden to pick up on who they were.

Dis made short work pulling her from her covers and herding her towards the bath. Samantha was ushered in as well. Mostly because the poor lass just happened to be there and Dis was on a mission it seemed. Marabell was given quick instructions to bath and use the oils which Dis knew she hadn’t been using in her hair the last week. Also to make sure she used the soap from the blue bottle, not the red one. Marabell had no idea what difference it would make but did as asked regardless.

All too soon she was pulled out, nearly literally, and clad only in a plush towel pulled into the other room. Samantha was happily left to finish bathing at her own leisure. Marabell was sure the only reason the hobbit didn’t come out sooner was because she had decided it was safer to hide to be near Dis at the moment. Smart girl.

To her surprise the voices turned out to be Dori and Ori. Dori kept his eyes politely turned away from Marabell’s towel cover formed as he moved about with some tea and placed a set of wrapped bundles on a chair near by before moving off to sit closer to the door.

Ori on the other hand had an open book on her lap filled with notes and an eager smile. Turned out she was there to give her a miniature lesson on their arriving guests while Dis braided her hair and helped her to get dressed. Her outfit was all Durin blues and white fur. Dori made a passing comment that her father would be dressed in similarly, only with a bit more armor. Her cloak was a near coal black with a grey inner lining.

Dis placed her hair in her usually braids, expect instead of leaving the back loose, she pleated it out into five smaller braids before weaving those together to form a curl on the back of her head. Bell thought it looked a little strange, so used to seeing her own curls at the back but Ori grinned and Dori gave an approving nod so she figured it must be alright.

Once finished, Ori excused herself with a small smile while Dori set about cleaning the room while he waited for Sam to finish dressing. Marabell didn’t get much chance to linger as Dis had her out of the room and heading down the hall before she knew it.

Standing before his throne stood her father. He was dressed as promised in his Durin blues and black. He cast her a small smile when he noticed her entrance and Marabell broke away from her aunt to approach him. She was a little surprised when his hand found the back of her head and he was pulling her in to rest his head against her’s. The iron of his crown was cool against her skin.

Truth be told she was a little nervous and a bit more excited. She wasn’t expected to do anything for the arriving lords but would be introduced to each in turn. Ori had giving her names and descriptions to help her know who was who beforehand, but beyond that she was on her own.

Standing on Thorin’s right was Fili. Forever the golden prince he was dressed in pale yellow and tanned leather with a soft cream fur trim. His hair was neatly done and she smiled when she noticed her mother’s clip in the back. When he grinned she felt her heart warm. It had been a while since she had seen him grin so brightly. He had been so down the last time they had spoken and with everything that had been going on, she’d had little chance to speak with him again.

His hand closed around her arm as he pulled her in for a quick hug. She smiled brightly as she took her place to his right where Dis had told her to stand as she would be with Kili off to the side. As his guard, Dwalin stood just behind the throne of Thorin’s left.

Marabell spotted Gandalf’s tall form easily from his place next to the princess. He threw her a wink when their eyes met. Along the walkways many other dwarves gathered in all their splendor. Though the main event wasn’t until tomorrow, it seemed everything was dressed to impress their arriving guests.

Just off the main walkway the pathway which lead to the council chambers and Thorin’s secondary study was, as always, kept clear of other dwarves by a row of armoured guards. That didn’t mean they had managed to keep the hobbits out of the area however and though their view was poor from that pathway, Pippin waved at her excitedly as Frodo send her an apologetic smile as Merry jumps at his side.   

Seeing her eye, Thorin leaned towards Dwalin. The warrior nodded before heading down from the dais. Marabell sent her father a grin when Dwalin pushed back through the crowd leading the three small hobbits like tiny ducklings to stand next to Dis, Kili and Gandalf.

It was none too soon as the doors were thrown open with a deep cry of “Cousin!”

Dain Ironfoot was all armour, dark hair and sharp blue eyes. He entered with heavy boot falls and a host of guards. They was no doubting the family resemblance, though Marabell was amused to note that her father was taller than the stouter lord by nearly a head and that the Lord of Ironhill’s beard was so long that it hung low passed his belly to the point where she wondered if he was forced to trim it to keep from stepping on it.

“Dain,” King Thorin stepped forward with his arms out in welcome. The pair embraced tightly before stepping back. “It is good to see you. I welcome you and yours to the Halls of Erebor.”

“And we are happy to be here, though our travels were not as peaceful as we had expected.”

The King Under the Mountain frowned, “It’s an ill time for the orcs to be stirring with so many on the roads.”

Dain scoffed. “Or the perfect time, if you’re the orc. But enough, we can discuss these matters more later. I’d like to present my son, Thorin Stonehelm. Been some time since you’ve seen the lad.”

The host at his back parted to allow a much younger dwarf to pass through. Thorin Stonehelm had the same black hair that the Durins seemed to favor. His beard was much shorter, his face unlined. The younger dwarf also didn’t have the same Durin blue eyes. His were pale brown as they took in each of them upon the dais. Marabell noticed them lingering on her a little longer than she felt was necessary but he was likely just curious. He and Fili did exchange nods as heirs, though the air felt a bit cool between them.

“You’ve grown much, Thorin. I’m eager to see your progress in the Provings tomorrow.”

“I’m eager to show them,” he replied and his father clapped a hand down on his back.

“It’s all he’s been talking about. Think he has something worth showing,” he laughed. The smile eased from beneath his beard as the lord’s eyes slide towards Marabell. “So, this is the new princess I’ve been hearing about.”

Thorin and Fili stiffened as the lord came forward but Thorin dutifully met him halfway. “Dain Ironfoot, I’d like to introduce you to your niece, Marabell, daughter of Bilba Baggins.”

It took some effort for her not to look surprised at Thorin’s choice of introduction. By presenting her as Dain’s niece, he was claiming her as kin. The use of her mother’s name would point attention towards the fact that her mother wasn’t a dwarf. Marabell wasn’t sure for his reasoning behind it.

Dain’s eyes were narrowed as they took her in. The lingered on her ears, as most did and on the braids woven into her hair. “Thought that burglar of yours only stole the Arkenstone. Seems she took something even greater from ya too.” Marabell easily met the intimidating dwarf’s gaze. It helped that they were nearly the same height.

But her father was right in some regard. She was nothing if not her mother’s daughter. With a smile and a bow Marabell introduced herself. “Marabell, at your service. Mum told me lots about your skill in battle, uncle. I’d love to hear more.”

The Iron Lord leaned back, blinked before throwing back his head with a laugh. “Oh, aye, she’s your burglar's all right.” When he settled down a bit he was still grinning. “She told you about me, did she? I’m sure not all of it was good.”

“No,” she answered honestly. “But she understood why you were being as ‘pig-headed as the mount you rode in on’,” she quoted with as straight as face as she could. When she noticed Fili’s grin over Dain’s shoulder she smiled just a bit, though it was hard not to laugh when Dain did so again. Even her father chuckled a little.

“Then I’d like to introduce my son, Thorin.” He pushed said dwarf forward with one fat hand. “I hope to see you watching at the provings,” he said with a grin.

Marabell gave young Thorin a small smile and bowed her head. “I look forward to it,” she said politely which had Dain grinning, his son’s eyes widening and Fili’s pleasant grin turning into a scowl. Her father’s expression was strangely neutral and she couldn’t help but feel like she had just done something wrong. Though she hasn’t a clue as to what.

She didn’t get long to dwell about it because Dain and his men were leaving the cavern to settle down and rest from their long journey. The doors were closed and Fili’s hand curled around her arm. She threw the golden prince a smile but didn’t get a chance to ask the question floating through her head at that moment because her father is looking stiff as the doors reopen and Fili’s hand shifts to her lower back as she turned to see their next arrival.

It’s elves.

Their archers and soldiers filed in in two neat lines all clean white and shining golden armor. They march till they reached the base of the dais where Marabell and the others stood. Then they stop, turn and step back with precise, yet graceful movements.

Marabell took a moment to look about the room. There were no smiling faces on the dwarves in attendance, which made her a bit uneasy for only moments ago they had been joyous. Instead they looked on with darkened eyes and tight frowns over the elves arrival.

Her father before the throne looks like he’s been carved from stone and fixed in place. Fili appear nearly as rigid but he is at least trying to make an effect to relax. Marabell turned back to the doors at the first soft sound of footfalls and the swish of silks just as Thranduil, King of the Woodland Realm, enters the throne room.

She knew the story well. About how the elf king had captured and imprisoned the Company. How he had delayed them for weeks and had kept them locked away still her mother had been able to free them. She knew that he had also refused to aid the dwarves so far back as Smaug’s attack. It was these things and more which caused there to be little love between the races.

Though there is peace the price had been high. Her fingers twitched at the hollow ache she feels within her heart and does her best to hide it.

She also notes that there is something very different about seeing the real face of the villain of your childhood dreams - sometimes it had been spiders or orcs or trolls, but there had been times when it had been an elven king laughing as he locked her away in the dark.

Her mother had little love for Thranduil, but always stood by the opinion that he was still a good king. The elven lord was good to his people and cared for them greatly, which largely caused him to value their lives over others. A trait her mother hadn’t agreed with even if she could understand the desire.

Then again her mother had loved her dwarves. It was hard to make friends with someone who had likely caused the death of so many through his inaction.

Thranduil glided through the room towards the throne with as much ease as one would in their own home, yet with the regality and haughtiness that only a king could possess. His hair was a spill of sunlight which appeared to glow even within the mountain and was crowned with a laurel of bronze branches. His robes were a soft mix of silvers and dove greys. His skin was pale and face handsome in the way elves were.

However there was a coolness to his gaze which Marabell didn’t like.

Stopping at the base of the dais, the elf king bowed smoothly. “ _Aaye_ , Thorin, son of Thrain, King Under the Mountain.”

“Greetings, Thranduil, King of the Woodland Realm,” her father returned the greeting. “We welcome you to Erebor.”

Thranduil bowed his head at this and continued with his elvish blessings. It was a dance they moved through each time they met with each other, though Thorin had noticed that sometimes the words changed. Likely with the nature and time of their meetings.

Thorin’s eyes slipped towards his daughter when he noticed the sudden change in her posture. Surprisingly she was frowning, only it seemed to grow deeper with each passing moment. He wondered what the problem was, or if she just might not like the presence of the elves. He tried to keep such curiosities from his face as he moved his attention back to Thranduil as he finished with his formal greeting.

The King Under the Mountain opened his mouth to speak but the words halted when his daughter stepped forward with an angry scowl and fire in her eyes. His first thought was worry, followed by how much she looked like her mother right then.

“ _Amin merna quen,_ ” Marabell moved to stand before her father, so she missed his reaction but not those of the others standing along the edges of her vision as the elvish slipped from her tongue with ease. They jerked back with wide eyes like she had just grown wings. She could hardly bring herself to care at that moment too angry to see beyond the intrigued face of the elven king. The small smirk on Thranduil’s lips wasn’t helping her temper one bit and her brows drew down as she took a step forward and off the dais.

She might have only come up the his chest and had to crane her neck back to meet his eyes but she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to stand on level ground. “I don’t know how long you’ve been playing this game of yours, but were you a child I’d box your ears. King or not!” She finished with her hands ending on her hips. Mostly so she didn’t poke a finger into his chest like she wanted. She didn’t think the king would take being touched without asking first lightly and really she was already scolding him and didn’t want to make things worse.

“Marabell!” Her father hissed but she ignored him and the confused muttering around the hall.

Thranduil’s face moved from being surprised to laughter. It was a light, echoing sound as he threw back his head with it. His eyes gleamed in bright joy at her reprimand as if he hadn’t had so much fun in a long time.

Thorin was not amused. “What’s going on here?” he demanded and was less than pleased when again he was ignored.

“You have her same fire, Shireling. There is little doubt of your blood.” He cast a look over Thorin, though it didn’t linger long and was quick to return back to the dwobbit. “I had wondered how long this game of ours would continue for. Each time I wondered if one would noticed. I must admit I have become carried away with such amusements. I should not be surprised to be discovered by the daughter of Bilba Baggins. She always had a way of surprising me.”

Her father’s tight fingers on her elbow brought her back and reminded her of where she was standing. The eyes on her made her skin itch and her father’s tight voice in her ear didn’t help to halt the embarrassed blush which coloured her cheeks. “What is going on?” His grip wasn’t painful by any means, but it was clearly a sign that he wasn’t very pleased.

The elf sobered somewhat as he returned his attention to the other ruler. He didn’t move to speak however and Marabell knew by the shine in his clear eyes that Thranduil was leaving that honour to her.

It was a test. But really she just thought he was being a bit of a jerk.

Relations between the races was rough at best and near bloodshed at worse. There were a lot of hurt feelings and past grievances on either side. Telling her father, King of Erebor, that his fellow ruling had been calling him, their kin and their home unflattering names in his native tongue which he knew none in attendance could understand besides his own kin would be a quick way to prompt more fighting between their nations.

But her father was waiting for an answer and his patience was growing thin. She knew her hesitation looked bad and she was tempted to meet Fili’s gaze to see what his thoughts were but didn’t dare. She did notice Gandalf’s small smirk however and fought against sending him a pointed stare.

Marabell licked her lips as she took a calming breath. “He was saying all these silly things. About nothing in particular!” She assured. “But he knew you couldn’t understand him, so he was just being silly.” She gave the other, much taller king in question a sidelong look. “Apparently he’s been doing it for a while. Very _unkingly_ of him.”

Thorin looked less than pleased and there was a rise of darker murmurings from about the hall. Even so there was the smallest of lifts to the edge of Thranduil’s lip, the barest hint but enough to know he was fighting off a smirk. She pointedly turned her head away from the elf.

Thorin for his part was fighting his growing desire to ring the elven lord’s neck. It was a familiar feeling but to know Thranduil had been playing him a fool for some years now did not sit overly well against his pride. He knew the other king held little respect for him but to show such blatant disregard. He was honorless.

Thorin turned his back on the other king and did his best to keep the sneer from his voice. “You are tried, King of the Woodland Realm.” His voice was cold as ice and just as sharp. “Rejoin your people and rest.”

Thranduil made no reaction to the tone and again bowed his head. His eyes lingering on the young dwobbit, though she pointedly kept her face turned away and he smirked with amusement at that. A look which Dwalin noticed and made a low growling in Khuzdul which was likely a warning as he took a step forward only to be stopped by a pointed look from his king. It mattered little. Thranduil was already turning in a swirl of his shining robes, his guards trailing out behind him as he left to rejoin his kin camped outside the kingdom’s gates.

As before the great doors were closed as the ruler exited and Fili was at her side. His expression was unreadable, though his eyes were searching. Thorin’s voice cut across them before the prince was able to voice his thoughts, “Any other skills you’ve been hiding, daughter?” His tone wasn’t so much angry as tried. Really the fact that his daughter knew elven shouldn’t have come as a surprise. She had been borned and raised in Rivendell after all and her mother had always had a fondness for elves.

She shifted on her feet and had the presence of mind to look just a little bit sheepish. “Not that I know of.”

He hummed at that but there was no more time to dwell on it as the doors were opening once more and the last of their guests was making his appearance. Fili and Marabell return to their rightful places on the dais as a much smaller group of honour guards worked its way towards them. Held at its center was a middle aged man with brown hair below a simple thick circlet of gold and dragon wings.

The King Under the Mountain had a faint smile in place as he greets the man. “King Bain, welcome. I hope your family is well?” he greeted as a friend. Marabell was happy to see such relations between Erebor and Dale.

Bain bowed in return. “As always. They are most excited for Durin’s Day. I believe it’s become their favorite festival of the year, King Thorin.”

“I am happy to hear that.”

King Bain gave a small laugh at thought. “I thought you might be.” His eyes, brown and kind, landed on Marabell and his grin grew ever so slightly.

Thorin stepped forward and held a hand out for her to come forward. “King Bain, may I introduce my daughter Marabell.”

He smiled pleasantly. “Well I will admit I was quite surprised when I heard the news, I was very happy to hear it. There is nothing more rewarding in life than one’s children.” He lowered his head in her direction, flashing her the smallest of winks which only served to make her own smile widen. So far she liked this King Bain. Though she was disappointed that she would never get the chance to meet his father. Maybe, if he wasn’t too busy, she’d be able to sit with the king and he’d be willing to tell her more about him. She knew her mother would be most interested to find out what had happened to her favorite bowmen.

 


	18. Chapter 18

Marabell was a bit surprised to find herself left behind when her father rested a hand on Fili’s back and the pair moved towards the council chambers for the next set of meeting which would be held out of the eyes of the general populus. She chewed on her lip for a moment watching them leave when Dwalin’s large form came to a stop at her side.

“You’ll have your time soon enough, lass,” he said gruffly as if reading her thoughts.

“I-” She started but wasn’t sure what she was so disappointed with. It made her frown.

Dwalin snorted softly. “Find something to do with yourself.” With that he moved after his king, leaving her alone before the throne.

She turned to it slowly. Marabell had yet to see her father actually sit in it. Not that it looked comfortable by any means. Then again it was meant to look imposing and impressive. Which meant she thought it a little strange that there wasn’t even the smallest bit of gold and jewels embedded anywhere in the carved stone.

“Is there something wrong, dear?”

Marabell looked over her shoulder to the tall, grey wizard. Everyone else had cleared out leaving just the two of them and the guards stationed near the doors. “Just thinking about how plain the throne looks.”

“Plain, you say?” He leaned on his staff as he eyed the chair in question thoughtfully. “Even if it is plain, does it make it any less grand?”

“Well, no.” She looked back at the throne. “Just… not what I expected.”

He laughed at that. “Indeed. Things never are. But how would you like to accompany me on a small adventure, hmm?”

“Adventure? But I’m a Baggins. No adventures here,” she answered back with a smile and a light giggle feeling like a little girl when the old wizard grinned with a knowing glint in his eye. It was an old joke between them. They had first starting it to tease her mum when she had been in her more darker moments. It had always worked to make her smile again and then she would go on about one thing or another about her own adventure and how she never regretted it.

As the great gates of Erebor came into view, cast open to allow the vast number of dwarves and visitors entry into the dwarven kingdom, Marabell felt her feet slow just a bit. She breathed in a deep lungful of the crisp, clean air. It was cold but not unpleasantly so in her heavy robes and wrapped layers. “Gandalf,” she frowned.

“Now, my dear, I do believe that Thorin wanted you to stay within Erebor until my return, and I do very much believe that I have returned.”

She looked a bit uncertain. He was right, a voice in her head was saying. Those had been the conditions of her imprisonment within the mountain. However she couldn’t help but feel like she would be disappointing her father to just leave within even asking him first.

Gandalf placed a hand on the center of her back. “Come, my dear. Do not fret. Your father will know where you have gone.”

“But-”

With a kindly smile the wizard pushed her on. The closer they came to the outside, the less she resisted and soon she was all but running for the doors with a grin.

The late autumn air was crisp and pricked at her lungs with each deep breath, but the sky! The sky was wide and open and blue. It went on and on with few clouds and she had never felt more free than she did at that moment. After weeks below ground she was free of the rocks overhead. Free of the mountain. Were she a bird she would fly.

Coming up to her side, Gandalf chuckled. “You are much like your mother.” She looked at him over her shoulder as he grinned. He had lit his pipe and was biting at the end of it. “Come now, let us have a look around.”

Everything beyond the gates of Erebor had been transformed since her time in the mountain. The poor fields had been felled and in their place a city of tents, shops and carts filled the area. Flags flew high. She could make out the elven camps along the western edge. To the east she noticed high stands had been raised. Dwarves, men and elves all moved around as they worked. New roads had been made to wind around and through the festival grounds. Not far from the gates three forges had been set up and heavy anvils put in place.

The hustle and bustle was amazing. Short of music and a bit more cheer, you’d have believe the festival had already begun.

“It’s always a sight,” Gandalf puffed on his pipe. “I try to come each year. Though some years time slips by me,” he groused. “It gladdens my heart to see the races working together, Even the elves and dwarves have been more amicable with each other of late. Though this year there seems to be a tension between them. Hmmm… I wonder what happened?” There was a little shine in his eye which said he knew just what had been the cause and found it all rather funny.

“You knew all along,” she accused.

“Of course I knew what he had been saying. I have impressed on Thorin on several occasions that it would not hurt relations for him to learn a bit more about his neighbours. But dwarves are poor with change and stubborn besides. Thorin still would rather hate the man than make peace,” he huffed.

They wandered down the new eastern road. Few took note of them. Men and dwarves moved all around so they were not as odd a pair as they might have been inside Erebor. All of the activity reminded her of the Shire. Things had never been anything remotely worth calling lively during their stay in Rivendell. The elves moved at such a slow pace that Marabell had sometimes found it maddening. This she enjoyed.

“I make a poor dwarf,” she confided as the thought came to her. Not for the first time.

The wizard looked to her with a raised brow. “Do you now?”

She bit her lip as they stopped. “I still don’t know where I belong.”

He ushered her on with a wave of his hand and continued up the road. “Is that not true with all of us? Race hardly matters.”

“But-”

“Everyone seeks to find a place where they belong. Although I believe most people make their own place in this world.” He puffed his pipe. “You will find yours. Give it time. Ah- Here we are.” They stopped before a closed tent. The dwarf standing guard over the entrance gave the tall man a nod and her a sidelong look before stepping aside.

Inside was a covered cart and nothing else. The wizard was currently making a fuss over it, looking under its cover to check the contents. He hummed and hawed and muttered to himself. All of which only peaked her interest in its contents more. Not that Marabell could see inside the taller man-size cart.

She gave a huff, “I have a feeling that even if I ask, you’re not going to tell me.”

“You are quite right. For it’s a surprise.”

“See,” she pointed a finger at him. “You know that will only make me want to know more.” She crossed her arms. “What’s to stop me from sneaking a look later?”

“Your sense of honour and because you wouldn’t want to ruin your own surprise.”

She perked up at this. “It’s for me?”

“Of course it is. I just wanted to make sure everything was safely moved over from Dale. I’d have hated it if something had been forgotten. Would be most unfortunate.”

As such Marabell was still trying to guess what could have possible been in the cart as she worked on cleaning the last of the dust from the back shelves inside the Red Dragon some hours later. She’d left the door closed along with the front shutters. The market was bustling, even nearing supper as it was, and she didn’t feel like being on display. She’d save that for the toys once she was done. Maybe Bofur would consider opening for the festival. She’d found two more boxes of toys lost in the back and had dusted each before setting them out. So at least stock wouldn’t be an issue and with the men of Dale in attendance he was sure to have little issues selling them.

She stepped back to admire her work. All that was left to do were the floors and she still needed to tidy up the work tables in the back a bit. Honestly she was a bit hesitant to touch them which was why she had saved them for last. She hadn’t wanted to move items from their set places if she could help it. Her mum had never liked her touching her writing desk. If nothing else she was going to make sure the tools were clean and ready to use should they be needed and leave it at that.

Marabell had just entered the back room when the bell over the store door chimed. Peeking out from around the door frame she blinked wide eyes at Bofur.

He’d just come up from the mines. There was rock dust in his hair, hat and coat. His mouth was open, his face simply one of awe as he looked about the front section of the store. He hadn’t even noticed her yet, eyes moving about the toys she had set about the shelves, and it wasn’t till he made a move to knock the dust from the sleeves of his coat that he was suddenly lunged upon and pushed right back out the door.

“Oh no you don’t!”

Bofur stared in bewilderment as Marabell glared back with hands on her hips blocking the open doorway. “I haven’t spent hours cleaning the years of dust away for you to just bring it all back in. Dust yourself off out there first before you come back inside,” was all she said being turning back around, letting the door closed behind her.

When the bell rings next Bofur is standing with his coat and hat over his arms. He’d knocked the dust off the best he could from the rest of him and to her amusement he’s taken off his boots and left them outside.

“You- you did all this?” His eyes are trying to stay on her but he cannot help himself. There by the window, he remembers painting that little soldier. Bifur had grunted at him for his choice in colours and had made him change them. Said that he belonged in blue, and not the red Bofur had picked.

There is another that catches his eye. It’s a stag. Only the elf riding it had a comically large nose and floppy ears. It had been made as a joke really, but Bifur had loved it anyways.

He turned back to Marabell. “Bell, I- I don’t know what to say.” He looked terrible lost all of a sudden.

Marabell felt herself fidget in her own nervousness. “I thought it was sad,” she started, picking up a small figure of a black and white horse. “I mean, you and Bifur worked so hard on these and for them to just be sitting under all that dust. It didn’t feel right. I mean, you both made these to be played with and loved, right? Well how was anyone going to enjoy them if they’re just all hidden away? I mean, it might not be my place but I thought that maybe if I cleaned it up you might consider opening the shop again. I’m sure Bifur would have-”

She hadn’t even realized she had turned away from him till his arms come around from behind. They pull her tightly against the front of his body. He tucked his face into her shoulder and there is a noticeable tremor coming from him. “Why?” he asked, his voice thick. “Why do you keep doing this?”

“Bofur?” She tried to turn her head to see his face but his arms only tighten, preventing her from moving.

“I don’t deserve any of this. Not after what I did.”

She laid her hands over his arms about her waist, holding him back as much as she could in her position. “You didn’t do anything,” she assured and his hands drop away allowing her to turn. He’s shaking his head, his hands in tight fists as he backed away. It was the expression in his eyes that got to her and pulled at something deep. There was so much guilt and pain there. They are emotions that have no place in those eyes and she couldn’t help but feel somewhat frustrated at the sight of them.

“It’s not your fault!” She snapped. “None of it was your fault. You need to stop acting like you killed her!” He stilled, hazel eyes jumping to finally meet her face. Marabell softened her tone. “Bofur. Mum loved you. She never blamed any of what did happen on anyone but herself. You can’t keep wishing you had changed things. What happened, happened. You know how much it would tear her up seeing you like this and knowing she was the cause of it? To see you killing yourself like you have? Don’t you care at all about how much she suffered to keep all of you alive and safe? You just want to throw it all away and make her sacrifices mean nothing?”

He didn’t seem to have anything to say to that.

She gave him a soft smile, closing the distance between them again. With steady hands she cupped his cheeks and met his eyes. Her thumbs brushed against the wetness of his cheeks. “She always said the best thing she ever did was run out her door and I’m happy she did as well. Else I’d never would have-”

His lips covered hers, stealing away what she had been trying to say as arms came around her back to pull her closer, removing all the space left between them.

 


	19. Chapter 19

“Come on, Fee! This is perfect.”

Fili just gave him a look. “You know it’s not going to be that easy, right?”

“Pft,” he brother grinned as he leaned back against the wall and watched as his elder brother stripped off his tunic with an easy shrug. “Once she sees you in the Provings, how could she not be impressed?”

“I’m not looking to impress her, Kili.” The golden prince glanced over his shoulder briefly before dropping his trousers to the floor, kicking them off from about his ankle. The makeshift changing rooms offered privacy from the passing crowds, but they did little to drive off the day’s cold. The crisp air raised bumps across his naked flesh, but he took little notice. To him his body was running as hot as any forge in anticipation for the coming fight.

Which was at odds with the unease settled in his heart.

Kili came up behind him and tenderly gathered up his long locks. “You’ll do well, Fee” He leaned in to place a kiss on his brother’s bare shoulder. “I know it.”

Fili hummed, tilting his head back so his brother would have better access. “I wished I had your confidence.” Kili started from the front, braiding his hair back into a single, tight plait. The tail of which slapped against his back when his brother tied it off.

“You have more than enough, in most things. Just because you aren’t so sure now, doesn’t mean it wont happen.”

Fili bent to pick up the worn slacks laying across the bench beside his own clothes and slipped them on before tying closed the simple rope belt to keep them from slipping from his hips. He turned back to Kili’s knowing eyes and his all too wide grin. Fili just shook his head. “We don’t even know if she’s going to be watching the matches.”

“Who’s not watchin’?” Dalwin asked coming through the curtain from where he had been getting dressed. Same as Fili he stood bare chested and bootless in a similar pair of simple pants. His hair was also braided back. He must have had Balin do it for him as it was normally closest kin who had such honour. He was almost surprised the other dwarf hadn’t come over as well but Balin was always busy doing something or other for their uncle.

“Bell,” Kili answered before his brother could stopped him.

“Oh, aye? Would be good for the lass, I would think.” Dwalin stretched out his back with a roll of his massive shoulder. The bone popped with the movement. “She might learn a thing or two. Why aren’t you fighting, Kili?” The tone of disapproval was clear.

In truth, there was little reason for him not to compete, besides the fact that he knew he’d have little chance in making it very far through the ranks. This year he was pretty sure Fili even had a chance at beating Dwalin if he still had it in him by the time they faced off. Though the fight would be a close one. In truth since the battle after they had reclaimed their home Kili had spent more time refining his bow skills than his sword ones and there were no bows allowed in the Provings. Not to mention his leg would likely cause more problems than not in the sand pits they would be fighting in. They were designed so that each fighter was on as much equal footing as possible. No armor and all the same weapons.

And besides that, the Provings were a point of pride and a time of showing off and there was no one Kili had the need to show off too. So why bother?

A drum beat echoed and they could hear the restless excitement from the awaiting crowd. It’s also their signal to finish up and head over to the pens while they waited for their turn to be called forth.

* * *

 “Ori-” Marabell turned when the other female ducked behind her again. “You can’t keep hiding like that. You look silly.”

“I feel silly!” she hissed. “And everyone is staring. Why can’t I just-”

“Ori dear,” Dis turned sharp blue eyes back to the younger females trailing behind her. “If you even think about undoing all my hard work,” she simply narrowed her eyes and left the rest of the threat unsaid. Ori dropped her eyes, her already flushed face flaring further. The princess sighed and moved back to place a comforting hand on Ori’s back. “Now dear, you have little reason to be so shy. You are a proud member of Thorin’s Company. You’ve faced down all kinds of terrors, a dragon included. This should not be so hard.”

Marabell tried not to grin at the expression on her friend’s face. While it was true that neither of them were overly comfortable dressed in their new finery with their hair all done up. Ori had treated the whole ordeal akin to reslaying Smaug all over again. Which was simply silly. It was just a dress.

Besides that Dori had put so much work into their dresses for the event it would have been both rude and a shame not to wear them. Today Marabell’s gown was thick and warm, done in Durin blues with soft purple jewels. Over it she had her coal black furred cloak with its inner soft grey lining. She knew it still looked overly simple for a dwarven princess but she had been so thankful of Dori for taking into consideration her more conservative hobbit nature when it came to jewels and precious metals.

It was already an hour past noon and the festive grounds were packed with dwarves, men and elves alike. Somewhere lost in the crowd were also several young, likely overly excited, hobbits. Marabell had little idea where they were at that moment but they were in good hands. Dori had taken charge of Sam and Frodo for the day and Gandalf had made off with the other two for a time before promising to join up with them.

A hundred different smells reached her nose as they passed by shop venders and guild booths. Roasting meats, thick ale, sticky breads and sugared treats were everywhere and everyone was happily partaking. There had been no meals served in Erebor’s great halls that day and nearly everyone was free from the duties to attend Durin’s Day.

The noise was assaulting. Everywhere people shouted, laughed and joked. The ring of hammers, drums and pipes echos through the air. Nearby someone was playing a harp. There were smiles and good cheer on everyone’s face and everywhere the ale flowed and the races set aside their unease for a day to just enjoy themselves.

“Ah, there you are, Ori,” Balin appeared through the crowd. “I’m afraid I need a favour.” At the older dwarf’s appearance Ori had instantly straightened and slipped into her beloved roll as script. Her mentor gave her a small smile before his gaze turned to each in turn. “Though I must say you all are looking lovely today.”

Dis grinned. “Why Balin, I would think we look lovely everyday,” she cheeked and he gave a small laugh.

“Aye, that you do.” He turned back to Ori. “I’m afraid I’m in a bit of a rush. Could you see that my brother gets this?” He handed her a folded unsealed note. “I’d do it myself but I fear I am already running behind as it is.”

“I will see to it right away, Master Balin,” she nodded her head eagerly.

“Good. Now he should be over in the pens. He’s the third door, emerald block I believe.”

The scribe turned quickly to Bell with a small ‘I’ll catch up,’ before she was lost in the crowds.

Dis waited a moment. “You sly thing,” she smirked, her eyes alight with mischief. “I know for a fact that my brother gave you the day off.”

Balin for his part seemed to suddenly have a hard time bringing his eyes back around from where they had followed his apprentice off into the crowd. “I hardly-” When he turned his face was one of wondrous surprise. “I had no idea-” he stopped again seemingly completely at a loss.

The princess laughed. “Was it my brother who tipped you off?” He nodded dumbly. “I thought as much.”

Marabell watched as Balin shook his head hard enough for him to finally gather his thoughts. “Mahal, help my brother. I fear he might need it.” 

* * *

 Dwalin was pacing within his given room. Mostly for something to do. Mostly to keep his attention focused on the fighting to come. His hands itched for his axes, but Grasper and Keeper would have to wait for the next proper battle. The Provings were fought with guild made weapons to keep things fair and although a sword was not Dwalin’s best weapon, he was still more than skilled enough with it.

The Waiting Pens, as they were called by the commons but had a different name on an official capacity, were little more than stone boxes with a door and a bench. He always hated this part of the trials. He’d have to wait within his little room till he was called for. Mostly it was done so that those called to the Provings had few chances of backing out and those who did were easily marked a cowered. It also offered a small bit of privacy before being trotted out before the masses.

He rolled his shoulders again, trying to ease the tension which had built up there. A good fight was just what he needed to blow off some steam. He’d be too tightly wrung he knew.

A knock at his door had him growling. Balin had just left. Surely his brother was done talking his ear off for one day. He couldn’t imagine there was much else left for him to say. His men knew their roles and those who failed to follow them would wish they had. Beyond that everything else was set for the coronation later and none of Balin’s fluttering could make things any more done.

The knock sounded again, this time a bit more hesitant. “Enter!” He snapped before they decided to try again and turned to stalk towards the back of his space.

The door clicked closed. “Master Dwalin?” The warrior turned.

Mahal help him.

He knew it to be her, but the image before him was most definitely not her. The plain, sweet faced scribe with ink stained fingers and simple braids and knitted things was the image he knew. This- This was something else.

She’s wearing skirts, his mind noticed almost as an afterthought but his mind fixed on it. No fur or anything else as fancy. She had no need for such things. Copper coloured skirts embroidered with dulled silver thread. There’s a belt about her waist. The buckle was iron, no jewels to which he approved. The rest. Mahal. It had been cut open in the front in a way which pulls his eyes to the hollow of her throat. There is a dusted grey cloak over her shoulders, the pin holding it in place a simple thing of little note.

But he’d been looking at her clothes. He cared little for such things as simple in their elegance as they were. No. It’s her hair.

She’d not done nothing fancy with her beard. It was still gathered into two simple braids looking neatly done and soft. The clasps were different, changed out for copper ones which match her gown. It’s the hair that has his blood boiling for no other dwarf had the right to see such a sight.

He’d know. He’d always known. He’d seen her sneaking off with her brothers some mornings. He’d even been close enough during a few daring moments long enough to notice the weaving of braids hidden along the back of her head hidden behind the shortened length of her hair. He knew it to be Dori’s handiwork and likely something she had grown so used to that even after she revealed herself to be female long after their quest complete, she had never thought to change it.

Rich brown waves fell down her back and over her shoulders. There was shorts of copper strands which caught even in the low light of the room. Small braids had been woven back in a manner which caged the loose locks while at the same time bringing them all the more to your attention. No dwarf had the right to see such a sight. Not from her. Not from his strong, bashful lass.

She was holding out a folded bit of paper, her month had moved with words he had not heard and there was a growing crease of worry growing between her brows with each passing moment. The sight kicked at him. He had taken too long to reply and her defense was to shrink back into her meeker shell.

Mahal help him.

He’d not have her looking like that because of him, all uncertained and sad eyed. He took the note from her hand and if his chest tightened and things rushed from the simple touch of her fingers he did his best to hide it. Yet he still couldn’t take his eyes from her even as her’s dropped down to stare somewhere near his feet.

He thumbed open the letter.

It wasn’t a letter. It was a folded and slightly smudged image of himself. His head was smooth in the picture and the simple background placed it sometime before they had left the Blue Mountains. But he remembered that moment because it was the first time they had met the other members of the Company. Those who had answered their king’s call.

It was the first time he had met her, him at the time before they had known her true nature, with her round face and large too sweet eyes. Too young to be traveling. Too unskilled to be an asset. Yet his heart had kicked in a fashion he had never felt when their eyes had met and he turned away and never gave it another thought.

He might have given it a little. Much later after the hobbit had joined and their king had gone all cow eyed. He might have given it just a little thought but he knew his place in the world. It was a place of battlerage and blood and would end with his life struck from him on the field. He would not leave someone behind like his brother. His brother who had looked so hollow and empty after the Battle of Azanulbizar where is One had fallen to the hands of orcs. He’d not leave someone behind to mourn for him like that or who’d follow him early to the stone. It was better for him to be alone. She deserved someone better than an old warhound like himself.

Yet he knew this work. He’d seen it often enough to know it had been made by her own hand. She’d always been quick with a her inks when she caught sight of something she wanted to capture. The barest tip of her pink tongue would sit between her lips as she’d work. That she’d captured this moment however…

He turned the page towards her. The reaction was instantaneous. Her eyes widened to near panic as colour rose high on her cheeks before moving to her ears and the rest of her face. Her mouth fell open.

It was not the reaction he had been expected. Obviously she had not known what it was she had just handed him. A mistake then? But why would she have it on her persons anyways for such a thing to happen?

Ori for her part was trying very hard to remember how to breath. It was turning out to be far harder than it should in her moment of utter panic. However even during all of this there was a small, tiny voice in the back of her head which said, ‘Oh, so that’s where that went’.

It was normally tucked into the back pages of her notebook. When she had noticed it missing the week before she hadn’t put too my stock into where it could have gone. Bell had managed to knock over her books and had sent her art scattering about her room. She had assumed it was simply tucked away with the others and hadn’t had the time to go look for it yet. She couldn’t stop the curl of cold dread that Balin had found it. Why he’d thought to play such a cruel trick on her was beyond thought. Unless he hadn’t meant to give her this paper to give to Dwalin. Maybe in his rush he had mixed up his pockets.

Yet he’d had it for over a week now and had had plenty of opportunities to return it to her and he hadn’t. Now Dwalin-

His expression was hostile to say the least as he held the image out to her. She fought back her tears as she prayed for Mahal to take her now. She was beyond mortified. All she could do was take the picture back and leave. When her hand closed around the edge of the paper, his other snapped shut around her wrist. His calloused hand easily fit around her thinner bones, his grip was near bruising. “First you tell my why you have this,” he growled out. Dwalin was big and now he used his form to crowd her back till she felt the door press up the line of her spine. When Ori kept her head lowered, trying to breath around her frantic heartbeats, his tightened his grip enough to bring a gasp from her lips. “Tell me.”

Fine, she decided. Tired of being the coward and for listening to her brothers. Tired of watching and wanting and never knowing. Let it end here. She’d figure out what to do later.

When her shoulders dropped, the tension bled out from her stance and she leaned back her head enough to rest against the door, his grip loosened. She couldn’t meet his eyes. Instead she fixed her stare on a thin white scar on his left cheek. “It was the first time we met,” she answered, her tone flat and listless.

His grip tightened and he leaned in. “Aye, I know that. You didn’t answer my question.”

“I wanted to remember.”

“Remember what?” he growled.

Mahal give her strength. Brown eyes laid bared she met his gaze. “Meeting you. Seeing my On-” Her arm slammed into the door, pinned in place by the large hand still locked about her wrist. Lips, all teeth and too rough, crashed into her own. His other hand drove into the hair at the back of her neck, holding her in place. Pinning her so she had no where to go.

Her hand rose to rest against the furred skin of his chest over his heart. It galloped like thunder and the feel of it dropped the tears from her eyes. They smoothed down her flushed cheeks before getting lost within her beard. This was her Dwalin, her beloved fierce warrior, which kissed her savagely and far too rough but it was like a breaking. The raw passion. It cut into her, heated and sent her thoughts spinning. It was all she could do to keep up.

He released her arm only for his hand to move down to her hip to pull her forward and off the door. He had precious little on and his desire was easily felt through the worn material. A fiery pool of desire tingled in her lower belly. It flashed hotly when he shifted to lift her with that single arm tucked under her bottom, the other still locked within her hair to keep her mouth of his.

Off the ground, she cursed at her skirts when they hindered her ability to wrap her legs up around his thick waist. The fabric bunched higher and higher till it was pooled about her hips. Unseemly, she heard a small voice say but she beat that thought down. Her warrior had her. He wouldn’t drop her and the heat of him there and wanting and now there was so very little left between them but her underthings and his thin pants. It was clear he had not even noticed noticed right away because when he drove his hips forward into her clothed sex he growled out a strangled moan into her mouth at the feel of her own desire so close to his.

Ori’s mind was spinning. Years of pent up desire and want rushing to the surface in heady waves which had her quickly dripping. The need to take something for herself. To do something which she wanted without asking for someone else approval first. Always under thumb. Always looking, never touching. This, she wanted this. She wanted him and here and now. Her warrior. All rough and battle hungry.

She fisted a hand around his long braid in the back and pulled hard enough that he grunted, his mouth taken from hers. It bared his throat and she wasted little time in sinking her teeth into the skin there hard enough to leave a mark and draw a little blood. She was done being meek. In this she would take.

With a snarl he had his hand loose from her hair and it was suddenly working between them pulling at the rope he was using as a belt and letting his breeches drop to his ankles. When that same hand turned to cup her wet sex she moaned, her mouth dropping away from his throat, her grip on his braid loosening enough for him to capture her mouth again in another biting kiss.

Her warrior. He wasn’t gentle. Little about him was and this was not how she thought her first would be but at this point, she hardly cared. All she knew was that she wanted him but more importantly. He wanted her. Even for now, in this moment, her warrior wanted her and she was more than willing to allow him.

He groaned, pressing her harder against the door at her back when his rough, thick fingers slipped into the cloth of her undergarments and found her wet and so very ready. That same hand turned to closed around the impeding cloth of her smalls. With a strong, sharp tug which had the fabric biting into the flesh of her hips he got the slack he was looking for which left her open to the cold air.

In truth she had little idea what to expect when he drove himself into her body without anymore thought. He punched through the resistance he found there without even a pause or care. She choked out a cry at the tearing pain even as he swallowed the sound with a groan of his own.

He had both hands firmly on her hips as he continued to drive into her. He had released her mouth in favor of resting his head to hers as he panted, breathing in each other’s air. Her own eyes were still screwed shut, but the pain was slipping away into something else. Something new and glowingly pleasant in the steady pounding rhythm even if it still stung.  

There is the barest feeling of a cresting wave deep inside her when Dwalin’s rhythm stutters. He thrusted his hips just a bit harder, his hands pulling her in, trying to reach the furthest part within her. He stiffened with a strangled groan and Ori could feel a new wetness being added to her own before he’s pulling back.

Ori was thankful for her full skirts as they fall back around her legs and the door as it seemed to be the only thing supporting her. She’s not sure what she’s supposed to be feeling in that moment. Whatever the feeling is its a heavy weight on her chest and all she knows is that she needed to leave before it crushed her.

Dwalin made no move to stop her as she fled from him. He’s too busy staring at his hands and the blood that’s on his fingers and his softened cock. It brings him back to the moment as does the drawing left forgotten on the floor. His own face stares back at him.

How could he- That was _Ori_. His sweet little scribe with her too big brown eyes and shy smiles. Not some tarted up cock-slut for him to take his pleasures from and toss aside. He’s not sure what to do. He’s disgusted, angry, appalled- so many things with himself. Dwalin returns to pacing like a beast. His hand clutches at his chest, leaving little smears of red and he roars. The sound rings back in his ears within the small space and echos in his ears.

His eye catch sight of Grasper and Keeper sitting atop his pack tucked into the corner. He picks up the axe with his One’s blood drying under his nails and knows with simple certainly what he has to do.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not one for adding notes... But insert Shameless Self Promotion here: The second edition release of my novel Beyond the Stars just released for any interested in taking a look. The first edition was a lesson in how not to publish a book, let me tell you... But for any of you interested in taking a look you can find it linked through my twitter, or any of the major ebook sellers, as well as my website which is on my profile page. <3 
> 
> Also, sorry Ori =/


	20. Chapter 20

 

The Proving fields consisted of three deep circular pits filled with sand. At it’s center stood the judges, watching over the matches and making sure that each dwarf fought honorably. Grand stands had been build around the pits and were filled the bursting with excited spectators.

When they had entered Marabell had immediately noticed that there was a divide amongst the spectators.The first few rows with the best view of the pits were only filled by dwarrowdams. She had never seen so many. Nearly all were heavily gemmed and ladened with golds and silver. The rest of the stands was a mix of dwarves, tall-folk and a scattering of elves. Although the latter were far fewer in numbers.

Dis lead them to an open bench between two of the Proving pits which would offer them the best view and seemed to have been left open for them. Cushions had been placed down for comfort and already the seats around them with filled by other spectators. Marabell spied Vonna sitting a row back to their left a ways. The dwarrowdams met her eyes with a slow bow of her head. It made Marabell frown slightly and she turned back to the pits.

Six dwarves entered the ring and Marabell couldn’t stop the blush that rose on her cheeks. Each was barechested with various degrees of fur and bare footed. By hobbit standards they were nearly naked. Their hair had been braided to a single tail at the back, their breads left as they normally were. She found herself staring nearly opened mouth before she caught herself.

Dis chuckled at her reactions. “Oh, come now. They want us to look. So enjoy it,” she grinned.

Marabell looked simply uncomfortable. It wasn’t like she had never seen a  barechested male before. She had seen both elves and hobbits similarly undressed but she had never seen a dwarf so unclothed. While hobbits tended to be soft, with smooth skin and round bellies, the elves had been lean, long and with a sleek definition to their muscles. The dwarves simply looked powerful. Their muscles stacked and so much more strongly defined, bulging like they could lift the mountains themselves.

She tore her mind back from the direction of her thoughts. “Why are they dressed like that? If they’re going to fight why don’t they have any armor on?”

Dis gave her a surprised look before it quickly shifted to one of understanding. “The Provings are a test to see who among them is the best warrior. To make sure the matches are fair they all use the same weapons and have the same armor.” Marabell frowned and was about to point out again that the most definitely didn’t have any armor on when she noticed Dis’ smirk. “It’s also about showing off. Displaying their... assets, as it were.”

Marabell’s eyes flicked, once again, to the nearly naked dwarves, her cheeks reddening.

Dis laughed lightly and smiled. Thankfully she also took pity on the girl who she often forgot were still new to their ways. “It’s a chance for the males to show off their prowess. No other day of the year are there this many of us gathered in one place. Many of the other bloodlines and clans who normally don’t mix are in attendance for Durin’s Day. As such it’s the perfect time for those interested to find a wife.”

“Oh,” was all she managed to say to that.

Dis smiled. “Many courtships will start tonight. Some will even find their Ones; If they are so lucky. Maybe you’ll even find yours, niece,” she added softly, though her eyes stayed fixed before her and refused to meet Marabell’s questioning stare.

Marabell had no idea about Ones. From what she understood you either found them at first sight, or someone simply became your One after an unset length of time. The hobbit in her, while a bit of a romantic, said that a One would be able to provide best for her and be sweet and kind. That she would lay with her chosen and never leave his side. But her chosen would have to prove his worth first. That picking her life mate was something she should take years considering.

But was there a chance she had a One out there somewhere? Being caught between the two races she had no idea.

Even so she couldn’t stop her mind from slipping back to recent events. Well, one particular event she had been trying really hard not to think of. While at the same time it seemed to be the only thing she could think about. It was a terribly confusing mess. One that set her heart racing and fluttering in her chest in a way she didn’t understand whenever she did think about it.

Bofur. That sweet, kind dwarf with his dimpled grin had stolen her first kiss. And honestly she had no idea what to do about it.

Not that she hadn’t liked it. She had. A lot. More than she thought she would. Not that she had ever thought about kissing Bofur before. Or anyone in fact. She hadn’t even thought anyone would want to kiss her or anything to that fact. Those rare few who had showed their interest in her back at the Shire had all looked at her for what they’d gain from the union, wealth and grand smial. Even if hobbits mated for life they were not above greed and pityness.

And it hadn’t been like she had even planned for the kiss to happen in the first place. She had just wanted to do something nice and to make him smile. Marabell had learned in her short time in Erebor how tactile her mountain kin could be. Had noticed the trait within herself with those she found dear. But she hadn’t planned on that happening to make him smile. Not like she had been the one to initiated it anyways, because he had been the one to close the distance between them and her hands had moved from his damp cheeks to fall about his neck as her legs suddenly weakened at the new contact.

His lips had been chapped from so his time in the mines. His whiskers slightly rough and new against the skin around her mouth. His mouth had moved against her’s daringly at first and bruising as if something had broken and he was trying to fix it with his kiss. When finally her mind had caught up with what was happening and she had leaned experimentally into the touch, trying to match his movements he had shifted the kiss into something more. Something soft and worshipping. It had ruddied her cheeks and she had forgotten how to breath.

When he had finally pulled back with a soft, joyous smile and a shine in his darkened eyes which had been missing she had been surprised by the wave of guilt which had washed over.

“Marabell?” Her aunt’s voice pulled her back. “You’ve been very distracted this morning. Is everything alright?”

She was most definitely not blushing as she gave her aunt a quick smile. “No, no. I’m fine.”

Dis hummed in a way which said she didn’t believe her. “Maybe there is someone you hope to see today?” Unbidden Marabell’s blush deepened. “There is?” Dis seemed surprised, her brows drawing up even if she had only been teasing. She made a note to warn her brother.

Marabell for her part knew that Bofur had no reason to be in the Provings that day. He had his new store to run. Had been all excitement, smiles and new found zeal about being able to open in time to sell to the visiting dwarves, men and elves. He said that with some luck he might even sell out of most of his stock and that she had been right, it had been wrong for him to dwell so much on the things he couldn’t change. That it had been the greatest dishonour to his beloved cousin to neglect the stop which he had greatly loved creating and to have let his creations sit unused for so long.

A drum sounded, signalling the start of the next round and Marabell pulled her attention back to the fights.

Dis was suddenly on her feet and there was a rush of shocked murmur rippling through the crowd. Marabell quickly follows the princess’s eyes to see Dwalin striding into the area.  

Dwalin, who she had just seen, was now missing his beard and looked utterly pissed.

Dis sank back down into her seat as the warrior and king’s guard jumped down into the pit on their right. He didn’t look up or even glance at the watching crowd. His eyes were locked on the other dwarf waiting in the sands with sword in hand.

His opponent was shout, but round with heavy muscle in a way which made him look to be able to throw boulders if given the chance and covered with enough hair to make him look like a small bear. Several mean looking scars scattered about his flesh. This was no unseasoned fighter and for such a dwarf to hesitate when the drum sounded was saying a lot.

The match was over nearly before he had began. Dwalin, with his chest heaving and a wild look still in his eyes, turned from the arena the moment the fight was called. His unlucky opponent lay back nursing a cut to the arm which Dwalin could have nearly taken off. Although the matches were stopped at first blood, they were not allowed to mortally wound each other either. Not that accidents didn’t occur from time to time and likely the furry dwarf thought himself lucky to have left with his head still on his shoulders.

“Stay here, I’ll return shortly.” Dis had already gathered up her shirts and was heading towards the exit Dwalin had just slipped from before Marabell had even thought to reply. The mutterings of the other dwarves increased in volume now that the subject of their interest had left earshot. It seemed like everything wanted to know who had taken Dwalin’s beard, and by extension his honour, and what had happened for him to have lost it. Had he overstepped with his king? Had another forcefully taken it?

Marabell listened alone on the bench are more and more theories were uttered back and forth as she fidgeted in thought of maybe going after her aunt. She also wondered what had happened for Ori to be taking so long. Marabell knew that she had been looking forward to watching Dwalin fight. Though really there happened been much to see there as short as it had been.

Her eye caught sight of the princes at the entrance to the pits, feeling herself glad to see them both. Only Fili was dressed to fight and after pressing his head to that of his brother’s, likely wishing him luck, Fili stepped back to enter the area.

Unlike Dwalin his eyes moved along the throngs of people. They didn’t linger on anyone till he saw her and smiled.

Marabell for the life of her could only smile back. The sun was bright and caused his hair to shine like bright wheat. His twin braids hung free of the warrior’s weave done down the back of his head. His mustache and beard he had also left unchanged and their golden caps caught in the light. His skin a pale gold which would likely bronze warmly if he stayed long in the sun. His chest, all lean powerful muscles, was covered in the same pale hair, tapering down to a small trail at the top of his trousers.

What drew her sight and caused the colour to rise of her cheeks was at first the tattooed rune over his heart which laid dark against his flesh. Which in turn had lead her gaze to the shine of metal... Oh, Yavanna. His nipples were both pierced through with simply metal bars. She had never seen such a thing.

Her eyes had never left him. So it came as a bit of a surprise when he passed by her seat with his same, wonderful smile and shining blue eyes to enter the pit to her left. Which gave her a view of his back and she couldn’t contain her horrid gasp which escaped her, although it went unheard over the noise of the cheering crowd.

At the center of his back, just to the side of his spine was a massive old scar. It was pale and shining in the light but it had never healed smooth. A part of him had been taken, the skin sunken and twisted in its healing. She had little doubt it had been a mortal wound. Yet somehow the prince had survived. The sight caused a burning in her heart and the need to touch the scarred skin to make sure it would still move with his breath under her touch.

The drum beat brought her mind back on path and she blinked, uncurling the fingers she hadn’t even noticed she had clenched. The matches were starting. She hadn’t even seen the other dwarves entering. Fili’s opponent had broad shoulders, thick arms and red haired. He was some years older and with his own battle scars. Marabell watched, his movements appearing all wrong even to her untrained eye. It was as if he was used to fighting with a larger, much heavier weapon than the sword he had been given.

However blades were what Fili excelled at. He had been training with them all his life. He was quick and lithe, the sword as much a part of him as his own arm. His match barely lasted any longer than Dwalin’s. He drew first blood with a shallow slash across his opponent's chest. He turned to Marabell with a grin and wink which made her laugh. He seemed to be in good spirits. It made her happy to see.

As they waited for the other matches to finish, his opponent scowling in the background. The prince stood at the edge of his pit closest to where she was sitting. The crowds were so loud that even if they were to shout they’d hear little of what the other person was saying. As such he wiggled his eyebrows in a delightfully playful manner which was so absurd that she broke into a fit of giggles. All her worry about Dwalin, Dis and Ori gone from her mind.

The drum sounded again and the fighters were clearing out for the next round of fighters. Marabell hurried from her seat, moving as quickly as she could around others who had also decided to leave between matched. Her exit set her some ways around the area from where the fighters entered. The crowd was denser here than in most places, slower her down more than she liked. It was easy to lose someone in this crowd and she really hoped to find Kili or Fili before they left to do other things. Fili would likely not be in another match for another few hours. Apparently there were hundreds competing in the Provings and the fights would last for the remainder of the festival with the finals being held far into the night.

She was nearing the holding pens, as she had heard them called, when she heard her name being shouting over the moving masses. She just caught sight of the back of Kili’s head before she finished turning towards the voice.

The dwarf who approached her did so with an easy, kind smile. He was young, with a coppery almost reddish beard in simple braids and his hair pulled back and twisted into another down the back. His eyes were a pale blue. His tunic was of fine make under a leather cuirass and dark trousers. He looked oddly familiar but it wasn’t until he stopped before her that she was able to remember where she had seen him before.

“Oh, Tnor.” She greeted with a nervous, embarrassed smile. It was very un-hobbity of her to forget a name like that. Rude too. She was going to have to work harder to remember the names and faces of the people she met. But she should have remembered him regardless. They had sparred together her first time training along with Ori the other week.

He gave her a deep bow. “Princess Marabell, I hope you are enjoying yourself.”

“I am, thank you. You as well, I hope? Are you on your way to the Provings?” she asked with a tilt of her head.

“No. I’ve just come from the guilds. In fact I was hoping I might see you. Do you have a moment to speak?”

Marabell cast a quick look over her shoulder to find Kili watching her with an unreadable expression. Fili was at his side back in his own clothes speaking in his ear. But she knew they weren’t likely to leave without telling her so she turned back to Tnor and nodded her head.

He leads her to the side of the flowing crowds near the outer walls of the arena. It was impressive to think that given another week or so the dwarves and men of Dale would have it all torn down like the massive things had never been built there in the first place. In the spring these lands would be used for farming again.

Tnor easy smile never leaves his face. “I will admit when I first heard of you, I had no idea what to expect.”

“Oh?”

He nodded. “Though many of us have heard the stories of Bilba Baggins, few of us have even met a halfling before.” Marabell did her best to keep from frowning at the term. Though it might be true about herself, her mother had always hated being called a halfling. But Tnor was smiling as he continued and likely hadn’t meant it to offend her. “I am pleased to see you are not so different from us.”

There was a small twist of pain at that and she wasn’t sure how to respond. She didn’t want to be rude. She got the feeling he was trying to be kind but his choice in words were leaving much to be desired. Instead of saying anything she simply waited, sure that he’s coming to some sort of point with all this.

“It would be an honour for you to accept this gift.” His hands were coming forward with a beautiful bracelet cradled in his palms. It’s delicate in its design with a large red jewel set in a nesting of gold wire making it look like a flower. Very undwarfish looking, more elven, but stunning none the less.

“It’s beautiful,” she cannot help but say and her hands itch to take it even as she pulls back. “It’s too much. I simply can’t.” His shoulders lower at this.

“I am no master, it’s true, but I know that this small thing is not nearly worth enough to compare to you. I would have you know I ask for nothing in return should you only wear it once and never think on it again. I will be content with even so small an honour.”

Marabell truly is unsure what to say and her hands hover next to his. It would be rude to refuse a gift made for her, though she cannot help but think there is something she might be missing. With a small smile she accepts his gift. The smile he graces her with in return is handsome and she watches as he disappears back into the crowd with a small bow.

Kili and Fili are at her side in an instant. Both with identical looks of displeasure. “I remember him now,” Kili turned from where he had been watching the crowds. “I’ve seen him a few times in training. From the Iron Hills I believe. Tnor, son of Vnor. Leatherworking and jewelcraft. Though his work with leather far outweighs his skills in the other. It’s cocky trying for two masteries.” The dark prince crossed his arms as he dropped his eyes to the bracelet she was now turning about in her hands. “It that what you want?”

Marabell frowned at her brother’s cold tone. “Huh?” She looked to Fili but the golden prince turned from her gaze.

“Ah! There you are.” Dori appeared from around a vender with Frodo and Samantha in tow. The two hobbits looked small beside the silver haired dwarf but both sported grins and wide eyes as they looked about. They had also been given new clothes, she noticed. Frodo had a new red vest and black slacks while Sam had been given a lavender dress with dark ties. Dori had also managed to allow the shy hobbit lass to let him braid her hair, though Marabell wasn’t sure if there was many meaning to the simply tail he had woven it into or not.

Marabell smiled. “Have you seen the others? Someone is watching them them, right?” she felt a momentary wave of panic at the thought of those two terrors running loose.

Frodo chuckled as Dori laughed. “No no. Bombur stole them from Gandalf. I think he was hoping to get the lads to help his brother with the shop. Seems he wasn’t expected it to be such a hit.”

Kili blinked. “Bofur reopened the Red Dragon?” he asked with interest.

Frodo was nodding, his loose curls bouncing. “Marabell cleaned it up for him. I helped some too.” He turned hopeful eyes to his cousin. “Maybe we could stop by?”

She grinned at that. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re hoping to get me to buy for you. I saw you eyeing the tiny thing a hundred times when you should have been working.” The hobbit blushed, ducking his head as Sam patting his arm.

There is a rise of shouts and a shift in the crowd. Marabell and the others turn to look even as Kili cursed and ran in its direction. She looked around with a frown before following. Fili must have already gone ahead to see what was going on and she feels the others trailing behind her.

As if sensing her, the curious dwarves and men alike move aside to let their small group through and she gasps. Kili is standing just inside the circle, his stance loose and hands at his sides, but it’s the pair in the middle which are drawing everyone’s attention.

Fili has Tnor by the front of his cuirass as he delivers another punch to the other’s nose. There is blood running down the younger dwarf’s face and Fili’s knuckles are bloody along with his split lip. “Fili!” She moved to rush forward only to be caught by Kili’s hold about her waist. “Stop! Kili, what-”

The golden prince swings out with a fist but Tnor twists, breaking the other’s hold of his chestplate and rolled through the dirt before getting back to his feet some distance away. The males stare each other down, eyes locked and chests heaving.

“Kili,” Marabell tried again and this time he released her.

Fili, if he’s being honest, jumps in surprise when he feels Marabell’s hand on his arm as she presses herself against his chest as she comes around to face him, putting herself between them.  He sighs, shoulder dropping as he waits for her ire as the fight bleeds from him. He had been hasty, he knew. He shouldn’t have gone after the other dwarf as he had, but he hadn’t been able to restrain himself.

“Are you okay?”

His eyes flick open when a hesitant hands touches his chin. He’s not really thinking when he bats her hand away as she tries to fuss over the cut on his lip. The rejection is clear in her big blue eyes and her hurt expression. It cuts too deep for him to handle in that moment. His blood is still singing from the fight and all he wants to do his claim her lips and smiles and looks all for himself. He wants to hoard her like a dragon would his gold and tuck her away from prying eyes.

Instead, like a coward he pushes passed her and leaves her standing there.

Kili stepped into the void his brother left at her side and Marabell turns her eyes to the other prince. They are swimming with the beginnings of tears, confusion and questions. “Let him cool down,” he advises though he doubts she wants to go after him at that moment. “If he hadn’t gone after him, I would have.”

She frowned at that. “But-?”

Kili gives her a look. It’s oddly cold and she realizes he’s very much as angry as his brother was. The prince sends a look over her shoulder to Dori before leaving her to follow after his brother.

Marabell is frowning as she watches his dark head till she loses him to the crowd. She’s surprised when she noticed Vonna watching her. The dwarrowdam’s expression is carefully closed and after a moment she turns the same direction as Fili and Kili.

She’s completely forgotten about the bracelet in her hand or Tnor  till Dori makes a small sound. “So that’s what this is about. Almost feel bad for the lad.”

“What?” At this point she would have been happy if someone told her - plainly - what was going on. She wants to blame the whole thing on them being dwarves and take Sam and Frodo to try that spun sugar candy from one of the Dale venders and be done with it. But she knows she can’t.

Dori, bless his soul, gestures to the gold and ruby bracelet. “Well the princes aren’t about to make it easy on the lad if he wants to court the dam they see as their sister. Just wait till he has his first run in with Thorin.”

She blinked at him. “I- what?”

Marabell reflected later that there were a lot of things assumed and many subtle things left out of her teachings up until that point. What most continued to forget was just because she was half-dwarf, did not mean she understood their customs and practices. Had she known accepting the gift on Durin’s Day - which was considered the most romantic day of the year - from another was akin to agreeing to court, well she wouldn’t have accepted the gift from a dwarf she had only met once and had barely even remembered the name of.

So, looking back she would have turned down the gift and her brothers would have been far happier for it. Now if she could only find them to tell them it was all a misunderstanding she’d feel a whole lot better about the whole mess. She was also going to have to find Tnor and return his gift, though Dori said it would be better if she kept it. Returning it would be a huge slight against him, and although her right, it was a little bit harsh when he had done little more than ask to court her and hadn’t meant any harm.

Instead Marabell would have to wait for his next gift, because apparently dwarven courtship started out with seven gifts. Each had to be crafted by their own hands for their intended. Refusing any one of them would end the courtship. So she simply had to wait for Tnor’s next gift.

And somehow explain it to Bofur.

And her father.

Oh boy.

 


	21. Chapter 21

Thorin was not a happy dwarf.

In truth he had been looking forward to this day. It was always a grand celebration for his people and he was eager to share it with his daughter for the first time. Only he had only been able to see her briefly throughout the day and mostly only in passing glances. To top it off although he had given the entire mountain leave from their duties for the day - save the guards of course - it seemed that everyone wanted a word with him about one thing or another and refused to allow him the simple pleasure of walking undisturbed for longer than a few moments before hounding him with more questions.

He had been please then to see his sister-son, hoping his presence would deter others for a time. Yet when Kili had approached him it was only to whisper into his ear that his daughter had accept a courting from some Ironhill’s dwarf whose family Thorin didn’t know before he left to go find his brother. It had left him grinding his teeth so when Dis approached him with a deep frown he couldn’t stop himself from snapping, “What’s happened now?”

His sister, he wonderful sister who knew his temper, just took his arm and lead him on. “It’s Dwalin.” That got his attention. “I’m not sure what happened exactly but I think he could use a friend.” That simply made him worry. The old warrior had always been his closest battle-brother since they were youngsters and he knew his friend to keep his own thoughts and feelings closer to his heart more than most. The fact that whatever it was Dwalin needed him for had Dis this concerned didn’t bode well.

There were several tents set up through the grounds for Thorin’s personal use. They were mostly meant for the various meetings he’d have with the other leaders and kings when they didn’t wish to have them out in the open crowds or as a place to retreat if he needed a bit of time to clear his head. The largest of the spaces had been set up near the feasting tables and had its own long table set inside with chairs enough for the whole company and a parted off area in the back for extra privacy with a desk and papers for notes.

Dwalin was hunched over a tankard when Thorin enter. His sister stayed back at the door, shooing the guards away before closing the entry flap to make sure their conversation is private. The thoughtfulness of it made him worry more for his friend. “Dwalin,” he greeting, clapping a hand on his shoulder.  

Dwalin shrugged off the hand. “I told Dis to leave off it.”

Thorin ignored that and pulled out the chair beside his, dropping heavily into it with a sigh. He cast an eye over the open cask within easy reach at Dwalin’s elbow. “Been at it long?”

The warrior drained his cup, slamming it down before turning to his king. Thorin balked at the sight, his mouth opening before closing again. His brows pulled down and he frowned in a mixture of anger and worry. He had a moment where a hundred things came to mind as to why Dwalin would take his beard, for it had to be him because no other dwarf besides Thorin himself would dare to. Yet Thorin had no idea what could have transpired for the longtime warrior to do such a thing.

“Out with it!” Dwalin growled. “If you think you’ll get more from me than ya sister you’re sorely wrong. Now leave off.” Out of all the actions, Dwalin didn’t expect Thorin’s hand to slide under his hair and grab the back of his neck to bring him forward into a skull smashing head knock and if the warrior’s eyes pricked at the affectionate gesture he simply blamed it on the ale.

“You have the highest honour of any dwarf I have ever know, Dwalin. Just know I’ll be here when you wish to speak on it.”

Dwalin filled his mug again, but after taking a pull from it he pushed it before the king. “You’ll hear soon, I bet. Little gets passed that spymaster of yours and incase they find my body in the morning, know that it’s been a honour to be by you all these years.”

The king frowned. “You’re not completely joking, are you?” Dwalin avoided his eye and a sudden thought came to mind. “This have something to do with Ori?” Dwalin’s head came around so fast Thorin heard the crack. He held up his hands at the mix of anger and worry he found there. Though it quickly morphed into a horrid look of self loathing.

“She alright?” He asked, shoulders dropping as he turned away.

“As far as I know,” he answered slowly. “She’s with Marabell, Dori and a few of the hobbits I think. I passed them not even a hour back. They should be getting ready for the coronation.”

He just nodded heavily. “You know, did ya?”

Thorin dropped a hand onto his back. “That you’re her One?” He felt his friend stiffen. “Only because my daughter is terrible at keeping secrets it seems. I was surprised, though glad.”

“Glad?” That earned him a look of disbelief.

He blinked back. “Why wouldn’t I be happy for my best friend? Ori is a wonderful dam full of heart, courage and loyalty. If not a bit too shy yet you can set that on her brothers. Any dwarf would be lucky to have her, yet she wants-”

“Enough!” Dwalin roared, rising from his seat and knocking his chair back to the floor. With a heavy swing of his fist he cracked the wooden cask. It started to leak ale out across the table. When Thorin rose and placed a hand on his shoulder Dwalin surprised him by swinging out with his other fist, landing a hard hit to the king’s right cheek which sent him back. Thorin barely looked up before he charged back, catching Dwalin about the stomach and sending him into the table.

Outside the tent the guards, standing a respectful distance away, cast the princess nervous glances and she sighed. “Males.”

* * *

For all that Marabell expected of the coronation, she had at least expected it be to grander or even held in the throne room. Instead she had stood above the feasting tables with her father at her side flanked by Fili, Kili and Dis as the sun began to set.

Her father addressed his people. His voice deep and as strong as the mountain. Balin had walked her through her responses for her own vow to the people and her promise to do right by the crown. She was thankful for the lessons because she was having a hard time paying attention since she was too busy staring at the darkening bruise around her father’s eye. He was also missing the third buckle on his tunic and one of his braids looked to have been hastily redone.

She was down on her knees when she felt the weight of her crown settled about her brow. It was similar to the one her father bore, though in place of the darker iron they had used a brighter silver. It was a purely ceremonial piece and was the same crown which had been used to crown Fili crown prince when they first took back the mountain. She’d thankfully only have to wear it for the remainder of the feastival.

Her father’s hands on her arms brought her to her feet before he pulled her in for a tight embraced to the cheer of the people. It was during this point that a small commotion near the edge of the stage drew Kili’s attention and just before Thorin could turn to make his final remarks, the prince tugged lightly on his uncle’s sleeve to whisper into his ear.

Thorin’s smile is wide as he turned back to his people. “Before we feast in honour of the coming year, it is my pleasure to announce not only the addition of my own daughter to the halls of Erebor, but also the new arrival of Banil, daughter of Tanil wife of Bombur. May the blessings of Mahal continue to ring through the new year and gold fill our halls!” A great cheer rose up and if it wasn’t a little bit louder than her own, Marabell didn’t mind.

Gandalf had laughed, raising his hand and staff in a way which drew everyone’s attention. “Then congratulations are in order! I had planned to save this for a bit later, but I believe now will suffice.” With that he slammed the end of his staff down and there was an explosion of colour in the sky and yet another cheer rose up. It seemed the old wizard’s fireworks were just as popular with the dwarves as they were with the hobbits.

Marabell grinned happily with a laugh, “I knew I was right!” she said to Fili over the crowd. He’d slipped up to her side as they made their way from the stage.

“About what?”

“That it would be a girl. She didn’t believe me when I told her hobbits can tell,” she replied.

“Really? Even if they’re your own?” The question slipped before he was able to catch it. Truly it was a innocent thing to ask yet he can’t stop the light colour which rises on his cheeks or stop his own treacherous mind from invoking images of Mara sitting in the firelight with a grand swollen belly of her own.

Marabell just nodded, thinking nothing of it. “Of course! Hobbits have a strong connection to anything that grows. Though we can tell the gender of a babe quicker within ourselves than others. Oh, I’m so happy for Bombur. I’m going to have to visit them tomorrow and see the babe. I hope the birth wasn’t too hard on Tanil.”

Kili moved up to her other side, drawn over by their conversation. He threw his brother a knowing look behind her back before addressing the new crown princess. “Bombur sure is lucky to have such a large family. Three children is rare enough. I wonder if he might get in a four one yet!” He grinned.

Marabell just gave him an odd look before another thought came to her and she quickly looked around. “I hadn’t noticed… There aren’t many children.”

“No,” Fili answered her. “Children are our greatest treasures as they are rarely granted to us.” He frowned. “Most of us will never get the chance to have one child, let alone three. Bombur is truly blessed and to be envied.”

“What about you, Bell?” Kili piped up. “Do you think you’ll ever have children?”

“I…” Her cheeks pinkened and her eyes dropped to her feet. “I mean of course. I’d love to have a whole house full of faunts, but it’s a bit soon to think about such things, isn’t it? I mean… I’m not even wed yet.”

“What about Tnor?” Fili’s voice was surprisingly tense.

“Who?” She asked quickly with a blink before noticing Fili’s split lip. The cut had been cleaned and wasn’t overly noticeable unless one was standing as close as they were. “Oh! Him. No, no, no, no.” She waved her hands back and forth.

“But you took his gift.” Kili was scowling now too, his arms crossed looking surprisingly like her father for a moment.

“How was I suppose to know it was a courting gift? I had no idea what had gotten into you two till Dori thankfully explained a few things to me. I was going to give it back but he said it would be better to wait and turn down the next gift. Though really, seven gifts? That seems a bit much,” she huffed.

The brothers shared a look before grinning and breaking out into a laugh. “Spoken like a true hobbit!” Kili’s hand came down to rest on her shoulder. Fili’s quickly joined it on her other side.

“You laugh,” she pouted. “But I’m quite embarrassed by the whole thing. I’m going to have to talk to your mother later before I mess anything else up.” She slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes going wide. “Oh no.” She stopped again, worrying her bottom lip.

“What is it?” Fili’s hand had moved down to lay against her arm.

“Bofur-” she started before stopping herself.

Kili’s smile faded. “What about him?”

“I- I mean. Um…” She looked frantically between the pair. “Just- never mind. Come on, everyone else is already inside.” Marabell quickly entered the tent before the brothers could detain her any longer.

Kili let out a string of low curses as he turned back to his brother. “I should have known! He always had a thing for Bilba and Bell’s been working on his shop for the last week!” he hissed out lowly so the others wouldn’t hear. He paused at the expression on his brother’s face. Or lack there of. Fili simply said nothing as he entered the tent already filled with the laughing voices of their Company. Kili just sighed before following after. “And things had been looking so good for a moment there…”

* * *

Marabell had no idea that the whole day had really been just a warm up to the true festivities which started as soon as the sun had set and the feasting tables filled with food.

And what food! It put even the best hobbit party to shame and even if both Erebor’s and Dale’s store were no where near where they needed to be to support their people, they didn’t hold back in the slightly. Four dozen pigs had been slaughtered the previous day along with seventeen cows and nearly twice as many sheep.

A good number of each had been placed into deep earth ovens. Marabell had been fascinated by it and had peppered the dwarf watching the earthen mounds with questions on how the whole thing worked. Samantha at her side at the time had been equally interested, kneeling down to press her hands against the surprisingly warm soil. However that had been hours ago and now she sat at a long table with the rest of her father’s Company.

They didn’t sit on formality as the had no many times before. The picked seats and moved about the table at will. Marabell had been somewhat relieved to see that Bofur hadn’t arrived yet and was regretting not taking the time earlier to talk her feelings out with Ori when they had the chance. Now her thoughts sat like a tangled mess and she had no idea what she was going to do when the dwarf finally did show up. If he came to join them at all. He was still with his brother and family, along with Oin and might not join them for some time yet.

Marabell settled herself down in the empty seat between Ori and Frodo which she suspected had been left open for her. Ori had returned her hair back to its usual style, not that she was overly surprised. Ori had been so terrible uncomfortable with it all down. Frodo just smiled shyly before taking another bit of his food. Across from her Merry and Pippin were telling a very animated and exciting tale of their last venture through farmer Maggot’s pumpkin patch.

“Laugh all you like but you didn’t get a bite taken from your shorts by that nasty dog of his!” Merry complained.

Pippin simply laughed. “You should have run faster then! Even Frodo here knew to keep up.”

Marabell turned to her cousin with a disapproving frown. “They have to stealing from farmer Maggot now too?” She couldn’t quite keep the disapproval from her voice.

“I wasn’t about to let Sam go with those two on her own,” he defended as she groaned. Little troublemakers the lot of them, she thought even as she smiled fondly.

Ori’s brown eyes moved between the hobbit lass in question and Frodo. “Will they court?” The dwarrowdam asked low enough for Marabell’s ears only. Though not low enough judging by Frodo’s growing blush.

The dwobbit chuckled. “We’ll have to wait and see. There are some years yet before this bunch begin to think of such things,” she answered with a fond smile. “Are you alright?” she asked with some concern. “When you didn’t come back I was a bit worried.”

Ori managed a small smile for her friend. “Just tired. Turned out there were a few more things I needed to get done.”

In truth it had been hard for her to leave her home once she had fled there. At first she had entered her room and thrown herself against her blankets with a great bursting sob. When she had later raised her head _he_ had been looking down at her from the mural on the wall... Somehow she had managed to get to their bath before being sick across the stone floor.

She was a mess when she later looked in the mirror and dreaded more than anything her brothers finding her at that moment. She would take a thousand Dwalins over her brothers and with shaking hands had cleaned herself up, rebraided her hair and washed the tears from her face.

The only thing she hadn’t been able to wash away were the dark red stains on her inner skirts. A good portion of an hour was spent by her scrubbing at them before her hands, red and sore themselves had stopped. Taking a deep breath and set about doing something else. She made herself a cup of tea.

It wasn’t something she did often. Normally Dori had a pot waiting about somewhere but with him watching over the hobbits that day he hadn’t had much time about their appartments. So she set about getting the water on to boil and getting a cup from the cupboard. She allowed her body to move through the actions while her mind slipped into a blissful calm.

Dori had a habit of saying that everything is better after a cup a tea. Or was it with? At that point she didn’t care.

She shifted in her seat with a twinge of pain. Muscles felt sore and stiff in places she had never been able to feel before. It was an odd feeling. Yet she guessed it was to be expected. She had read, long before her brothers would have ever consented to allowing her to know, about the practiced of mating. She had brought the medical book back to her room and had read it with a hard blush and warm, confusing thoughts. It had been some months after that when she was able to gather the courage to approach Dis with a few questions the book hadn’t been able to answer it.

She had known that the first time was going to hurt, but she hadn’t expected that. Coupled with Dwalin’s general rough, uncaring treatment… it had been a bit too much for her heart to bare after the fact and although things had started to feel more pleasant near the end… it had all been over far too quick.

When she finished her cup she washed it out, dried it and placed it back where she had gotten it from. By the time she returned to her room she had the strength to sit down on her bed and face Dwalin. There was an odd peace in the knowledge that her feelings weren’t returned as she had always hoped. He had given her what she had thought she wanted and there was no one else to blame for it but herself. She should have known better than to have allowed him to use her in such a fashion. Had she tried he would have stopped. A dwarf would be shaved for far less unwanted advances towards any female. But she had made the choice to allow him to take his pleasure and she wasn’t going to dwell on what couldn’t be changed.

So when she’d drew near the tent with Dori and the hobbits and had seen Dwalin’s bare chin, to say she had been angry was an understatement.

He wouldn’t approach her before the others, she knew. If for no other reason than to spare her the embarrassment. It was well within her right to make his actions known to king and kith should she wish. Instead she slipped from her brother’s side with the excuse of needing a bit of air. It was awfully stuffy in the tent after all. Once outside she continued walking, knowing he would follow, till she found a smaller unused tent full of stacked boxes.

Ori had kept her back to the entrance even as he entered. Her arms crossed over her chest. When she finally did turn to find him on his knees before her, the severed length of his beard braided and tied at the ends across his open palms as an offering. What had remained on his chin wasn’t even enough to tie a bead in, let alone the smallest of braids. She let her shoulder slump.

“Ori, daughter of Rori, I have dishonoured you and as such am not worth of my own honour. I give it to you to replace yours which I have taken.”

She found herself taking it from his hands. The braided length was rough against skin, the hair thicker. Without a word she had returned to their tent, his honour now tucked safely within the pocket of her skirt. It was some time before Dwalin returned and after finishing another ale, she found it far easier to look at him without her heart beat racing.

Marabell had moved over a few seats and had worked her way between the princes. Her cheeks were flushed as she laughed at some joke Kili was telling and from too much to drink. Fili had a hand on her back to keep her steady in her seat. Dori had taken the hobbits back inside as the hour grew late. Most of the dwarves would stay up still the sun rose and the seconding feasting. However there were always those who forgot the pace their drink.

When Bombur and Bofur entered the tent it was to a mighty chorus of cheers all around.

“Someone get this brother of mine an ale!” Bofur grinned wide and bright. Thorin pressed his own mug into the round dwarf’s hand causing Bombur to stutter and the others to laugh.

As the made their way around, Marabell found herself standing and hugging Bombur as tightly as she could. “Congratulations! I hope Tanil is alright?”

“Yes, she’s very good. It was an easy birth compared to our boys but both are well.”

She grinned. “I’m happy to hear it! I’ll make sure to come by and visit tomorrow. I can’t wait to meet your little girl.”

Bofur’s arm came down around her shoulder, tucking her into his side. “And I know me brother here can’t wait to show ya. He’d have brought her if Tanil hadn’t put her foot down.” Bombur gave a sheepish grin at that.

Marabell swatted at Bofur playfully. “Oh hush, like you wouldn’t want to show off your own daughter.” She turned before she noticed Bofur’s sudden blush.

The others did notice and Thorin was not at all pleased with what he saw.

Had he not warned him once already? His daughter was nothing if not a kind soul like her mother and nearly as clueless when it came to their customs. He knew his sister and Balin had been doing their best to address things as needed, but he knew there was still much to cover.

As Bofur leaned his head down towards Marabell’s braided locks close enough to smell the oils she’d use that morning, Thorin was already coming around the table towards them. As such he pulled to a stop when Kili spoke up, not even bothering to look up from his cup. “It’s not very fair to your intended, Bell, to let another hang all over you like that.” Marabell turned wide eyes in his direction as Bofur stiffened at her side. The pleasant warm buzz in her blood suddenly gone cold. “I mean, I know Tnor’s not here right now and all. But it’s a bit rude, isn’t it?”

Bofur’s hand dropped from about her shoulder, his face pained. “That true?”

Marabell was torn between concolling sweet Bofur and killing Kili in that moment. Then that moment was gone and her blood was on fire.

He hadn’t been seated very far away, yet she didn’t remember crossing the distance till her hand slammed closed fisted against Kili’s cheek. The hit knocked him back but was no where near strong enough to knock him down. As such he turned back, hand on his jaw with surprised eyes.

“Bollocks! That hurt.” Marabell shook out her hand even as she glared the prince down. He at least had the decency to look somewhat shamefaced. “And you know very well I had no idea what taking that gift meant! And since I apparently can’t just give it back because that would be _rude_ I have to wait till he gives me something else and then turn that gift down because stringing the poor man on longer isn’t bad enough.”

“Well you shouldn’t have accepted a gift from a strange dwarf!” Kili shot back once his initial shock had worn off.

“I thought he was being friendly!”

“Of course you did! Because you are just so blind-”

“Kili!” Fili hissed getting up from his seat to take hold of his brother’s arm. “That’s enough.” The darker prince shrugged off his brother’s hold even as he sent him an imploring look. Fili just scowled. “Apologize to Bofur and Mara.”

With one final look to Fili, Kili’s shoulders dropped as he sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I was out of line.”

Marabell huffed as she crossed her arms. “My hand hurts now because of you.”

Kili rubbed at his jaw with a faint smirk. “That was a good hit. Needs a bit of work though.”

She turned up her nose at that. “Well it’s not like I normally go around hitting people you know.” When Kili approached her and slipped a hand behind her neck to bring their foreheads together she let him. Even as she glared. “I’m still mad at you.”

He smiled. “I know.”

 


	22. Chapter 22

Everyone slept in late the following day, at least those who managed to make it all the way till sunrise. Marabell had never been more thankful for the lack of windows in her suits as she was when she finally woke up sometime in the mid-afternoon.

Sam was either off with the others or being blissfully silent in the room. There wasn’t a speck of light in her room as Marabell rolled over miserably. She stomach rolled about warningly and her head felt like she’d taken a hit from Dwalin’s warhammer. She groaned.

She had just managed to find a comfortable position where everything hurt just a bit less when her bladder made itself known. In that moment Marabell seriously considered just wetting the bed if it meant not moving but then she’d be wet and would need to change the sheets and scrub the mattress. Far too much work.

So it was with a pitiful moan that she got herself out of bed and somehow to the bathroom without smashing into anything along the way or falling on her face.

She managed to do her business and light a few candles, blinking painfully at their brightness. She half considers blowing them out again but didn’t think it a good idea to bathe in the dark. And she very much wanted a bath.

It was sometime yet before she dragged herself out into the sitting room to the wonderful surprise of a mountain of food and her father reading a book on the small coach by the fire. He chuckled as she stepped into the room. She must have been a sad sight indeed. “I thought you might be in such a state. There is food if you want it.”

She sank down onto the couch next to him and curled up miserably against his side. It was a familiar action for Marabell, one she had done often when seeking comfort from her mum when she was ill of body or mind. Though Thorin was not like her mum. Her mum had been all soft curves and soothing hands. She would wrap her arm about her and hum tunelessly as she continued to read one thing or another. Sometimes she’d read aloud to Marabell when she thought she needed it.

Her father was solid and unyielding and warm as any forge as all dwarves seemed to be. She felt him stiffen but she wasn’t about to move. After a time his slowly relaxed, his arm coming across his shoulders to pull her a bit closer with a fond smile. His heart swelled from the contact. He couldn’t help leaning over to kiss the crown of her head.

Marabell hummed, turning enough to look up at him with her all too familiar blue eyes. The bruise around Thorin’s eye had darkened to a sickening purple and she grimaced at the sight before moaning when the movement made her head pound. “...So what did you do to deserve that?”

“Consoled a friend.”

Marabell frowned at that. “What happened for Dwalin’s beard to get cut? I mean, I know that hair is important. Dis mentioned that cutting your hair is normally done in mourning or as punishment.”

Her father nodded. “That is usually the case. Something happened in which Dwalin believed he wasn’t worthy of his honour and so he cut his beard.”

Her brows furrowed at that. “Do you think it might have something to do with Ori?” Thorin raised an eye at that but Marabell was worrying her bottom lip. “Maybe that was why she was so out of it. He must have turned her down. Oh poor Ori.”

They lapsed into silence. “Da?”

“Hmm?”

“Is there a reason you keep your beard short?” She looked up again.

Thorin nodded. “Before we had reclaimed the mountain and I was newly made king I vowed to keep it cut till I brought my people home. Dwalin made a similar vow in cutting his mohawk which was a great pride of his.”

“Then why?”

He ran his hand down her black unbraided curls still drying from the bath. “Because I didn’t deserve it for what I had done to Bilba and vowed that if she was ever to return and somehow forgive me I’d allow it to grow again. Now it will remain short in mourning.”

Marabell snuggled down, closing her eyes. “You should grow it,” she said after a time. “She’d be disappointed that you hadn’t already.” His hand stilled before continuing its stroking.

Her stomach gave a lurch, both in hunger and pain and she moved to sit up which only brought back the pounding in her head again. “Remind me never to drink again.”

He chuckled lowly. “You did well.”

“I punched Kili for crying- Oh my gods, I hit Kili!” she gasped in horror. “Oh, shoot. Is he alright? I shouldn’t have done that. That wasn’t very nice of me I just, I just-”

“Couldn’t help it?”

“Yes!” she cried, going quickly over her foggy memories. “But that doesn’t mean I should have followed through with it! I mean I was very angry about what he said because he knew it was untrue and just said it to be mean to Bofur and its just all so embarrassing-”

“Because Bofur is courting you?” Thorin said evenly.

“I-” Marabell turned, mouth open. “I don’t know. I mean, we just… haven’t had a chance to talk about it.”

As angry as the idea made him, seeing his daughter looking so lost with slumped shoulders only made him want to do what he could to make her happy. He leaned towards the table, taking his time pouring her a drink and gathering a few items onto a plate for her to pick at till her stomach settled. He’d have to have Dis talk to her on this one. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep a level head if it turned out they were in fact courting and it wasn’t just simply an attraction.

With a thankful smile she nibbled from her plate. “Are all dwarven festivals so violent?” she asked in thought. “I mean, it seems like everyone was punching someone else.”

Thorin laughed. Though he quickly smothered it when the sound made her flinch. “We are hot blooded, it’s in our nature.”

“Still, I need to apologize to Kili.”

Thorin waved a hand. “Don’t bother. You did last night and if you do I think Fili will likely just hit him again for the sake of it.” There was a knock at the door. “Speaking of my sister-sons…” He rose from the couch and answered the door instead of calling for them to enter. Her head was thankful for the gesture and she took another slow sip of the cold tea which was helping to be ease the rolling in her stomach.

Kili came shuffling around her table looking sad and ashamed of himself with his eyes down and shoulders low. She was at least happy to see she hadn’t left a mark on him. Though Fili’s split lip looked a bit angrier than it had before.

“Bell, I’m sorry for what I said last night. It was wrong of me to say and I shouldn’t have done so in front of anyone else.” He bowed. “Can you forgive me?”

She got up and pulled her darker brother into a tight hug. “Of course I can. And I’m still sorry to for hitting you.” Kili’s arms tightened about her at that and Fili scoffed.

“Don’t be, you had all right to.”

Marabell frowned at that. “Which still doesn’t make it right. I shouldn’t have hit him no matter how mad I was. How’s your lip?” She asked, pulling away from Kili and moving towards Fili. She lifted a hand to touch the side of his face, but hesitated before letting it drop again.

Fili sighed, lowering his head till it rested against hers. “I’m sorry as well.” Her eyes looked between his, searching as their breath mingled. It caused something strange to pull at her heart.

“I’m sure there are a lot of sorry dwarves in Erebor today,” Thorin leaned down to pick up his book from the table. “Try to take it easy. There is no dinner in the hall today. Most will be spending it with their kin, so we’ll eat together later.”

“What time is it anyways?” Marabell asked after her father had leaned in to drop a kiss on her forehead.

“Just after lunch,” he answered. “I have a few things that require my attention.”

“Like Dain waiting in your office?” Fili offered to which Thorin groaned.

“I had hoped he had forgotten. But you’re right.”

“Can I join you?” Kili asked to the surprise of his uncle.

“If you like. Fili?” Thorin turned his gaze towards his heir.

The golden prince shifted. “If my presence if not required, I’d like to sit this one out.”

“So be it.” With that Thorin and Kili left the room.

Marabell moved back around to her seat, picking up her plate to eat a bit more. Fili, after a moment of indecision, sat down in the open space beside her where Thorin had been. She turned her back against the armrest and drew her knees to her chest, resting her plate on their tops. “Help yourself. I doubt I’m going to be able to eat even half of this till my stomach decides it likes me better,” she smiled faintly.

Fili just shook his head and picked up one of the smaller sandwiches. “Don’t worry about it. Uncle wasn’t kidding, you know. If the orcs attacked right now I think half of Erebor would welcome the slaughter if it meant being rid of their day-afters,” he chuckled. “Are you alright though?”

“Oh, I’ll be fine. You?” Her eyes slipped down to his lips again and it was his turn to look a little sheepish.

“I’ve had worse,” he joked instead but it only served to bring up Marabell’s image of his back.

No longer hungry, she set down her plate. “What happened?” At his questioning expression she clarified. “The scar on your back. I noticed it during the Provings.”

“Oh,” His face lost its playful lines and sobered. “During the Battle of Five Armies when we retook the mountain. Azog and his spawn drew Thorin, Kili and I away from the main battle. It was stupid of us, really, to go so far from the others.” He pulled his own knee up, turning to face her better. “Kili and I went one way, while uncle and Dwalin went another. We were in one of their signal towers and thought it was a good idea to split up. Kili managed to rejoin with uncle but I got cornered by some orcs.”

He took a shaky breath. “Azog pulled me up to the top, put his blade in my back and threw me off the side.” He shook his head, his braids shifting forward over his shoulders. “It was stupid of us to split up like we did. The healers weren't sure if any of us were going to survive. Kili shattered his leg and lost a lot of blood and uncle nearly took a blade through his heart. Even after they knew I’d live, they weren’t sure if I’d be able to walk and I was in a deep sleep for nearly three weeks from hitting the ground.” He wrapped his hand around Marabell’s reaching fingers. “Sometimes it still sneaks up on me, how close we all came to dying that day.”

The smile she gave him was anything if not lovely and warmed him as only her smiles could. “Well I’m very glad you didn't.” The grin didn’t fade and he wondered what she would do if he kissed her right then.

Instead he leaned in and pressed his lips to her forehead. His hand settled on the back of her head. “As I am glad you came.” He fingers lightly brushed along the naked locks. “Could I braid your hair for you?” He asked, cursing the betrayal of his cheeks as they flushed pinkly despite his best effort.

Her smiles were going to be the death of him, he decided and she left to track down a comb. He heard a bang and a muttered curse from the other room before she managed to light another candle. Fili leaned back and for a moment let himself truly smile.

* * *

Samantha had her curly golden hair tied neatly back with a length of yellow ribbon which matched her dress. Marabell knew from the dwarven cut of the garment that it had been made for her, likely by Dori. The older dwarf had taken a real shine to the young lass and took his duty as he chaperon very seriously. When she had made mention of this to Ori the dwarrowdam had smiled and said that her brother was doting on the hobbit in much the same fashion as he used to with her. With his young sister being grown now, he likely missed his mothering days.

The hobbit’s pale blue eyes, which reminded Marabell of the Shire’s sky, were glowing with excitement. The lass had never seen a dwarfling before and had a great love of children as she did plants. When Marabell had found her, Frodo and Ori hiding in the library she had asked if any of them would like to come with her to see Bombur’s new girl. Ori had waved her off, already having seen the babe and Frodo was lost in a history book about the Wars of Beleriand and although he liked children, he didn’t care too much for babes having been spit up on more than once during his time in Brandy Hall.

“I miss my little sister,” Sam’s smaller hand slipped into her own.

Marabell gave it a squeeze. “Winter will start soon, but spring isn’t so far away. It will give you lots of time to find her the perfect gift to bring back.” Sam smiled happily at that. “Besides, think of all the stories you’ll be able to tell her.”

Sam giggled lightly. “She’ll never believe I danced with a dwarf!”

Marabell gasped at the scandalous news. “To think, Samantha, I thought you a proper lady-hobbit.” She grinned. “Though I have to admit, I don’t remember that.” There seemed to be quite a few holes in her memory from the night before.

She was nodding. “You were dancing with Kili, so Fili asked me to dance.”

“Did he now?” There was a little tug at her heart but Marabell brushed the feeling aside. “Did you have fun?”

“Yes,” she blushed. “Though I don’t like their shoes. I was so worried he was going to crush my toes.”

Marabell laughed lightly at that. “Maybe next time we’ll get them to take off their boots before dancing.” She had to admit the idea was worth some thought and she wondered how much the Company might need to drink before she could make it a reality.

She shifted the basket of goodies in her arm so she could knock politely at Bombur’s door, not at all surprised when neither Bombur nor Tanil answered. Instead it was a younger dwarf with his father’s baring and his mother’s colours. “Tanfur, at your service, Princess. Please, come in.”

“Tanfur, may I introduce Samantha Gamgee of the Shire.” Sam curtsied to the dwarf’s amusement with a faint shy blush. “How is your mother doing?”

“Well. Tired, but well. Adad is with Banil now so she can rest. He was wondering when you’d be by. Uncle was also hoping to see you earlier but King Thorin mentioned it might be some time before you were able to leave your rooms.” Marabell looked a bit sheepish at that but said nothing as Tanfur opened a door as silently as he could and bade the pair to enter.

Bombur was sitting in the middle of a couch drawn up near a center hearth. He grinned when he saw them. There was so much pride and happiness in that one look and the shine of tears in his eyes yet. “I knew you’d be by,” he whispered as they came closer so as not to wake the babe in his arms.

Banil was a big thing, yet still small. She was larger than any hobbit bade Marabell had seen with a round nose and chubby cheeks. There wasn’t a hair on her head which was still faintly wrinkled from her time in the womb, but she was pink and healthy besides.  

“Eyes as black as bit of coal still. Won’t know for a time who she’s going to take after. Mahal, I still can’t believe it. A daughter on Durin’s Day. I fear for what that might one day mean.”

Sam knelt on the floor beside Bombur’s legs, eyes fixed on the tiny face as Marabell sat down beside him. “It could mean nothing and besides, that’s a long ways off yet before you’d need to worry as such.  I can’t really believe I was that small once. Mum used to say that I grew up far too fast for her liking.”

“Oh, aye, I get that. You’re not even forty yet you’re all grown and ready for a family of your own I imagine. I cannot think of my boys growing that fast. Would you like to hold her?”

She was seated with her hands firmly tucked in her lap and even though she did, she shook her head. Bombur just gave her a knowing smile and passed the small bundle down to Sam’s waiting arms. The lass positively glowed as she slowly started to rock the babe while humming a Shire lullaby Marabell could remember her mother singing to her.

“Quite a natural,” he commented as he watched. “My brother’s moving out of the apartments. Wants to give us more space,” he said after a span.

“Are you okay with that?”

He thought for a moment before he shrugged. “He has the store now again, thanks to you. He’s thinking of petitioning the Builders Guild to see if he can have more rooms added in the back.” He gave her a look. “Though I think he might be thinking of settling down himself.”  

Marabell chewed her lip. After Kili’s outburst at the party, she’d noticed Bofur shying away from her throughout the evening and if she was being honest, it had been one of the reasons she had likely had a bit too much to drink. She had been somewhat hurt by both of their actions and had been thankful for Fili’s understanding presence at her side. He had been forced more than once to help pick her up from the floor.

Next time she was going to be more careful with how much she drank. At least the elven spirits didn’t make her want to crawl into a mine shaft and die the next day.

Bombur and Bell spoke quietly until Banil started to fuss and it was time for her to eat. Marabell went to make their goodbyes but Sam wasn’t quite ready to leave yet. Bombur vowed to have his son bring her back to her rooms later and Marabell left on her own.

She chewed her bottom lip as she wandered. She needed to talk to Bofur. She couldn’t keep avoiding him… Was that was she was doing? What would she even say when they finally did get a moment to talk? They had kissed, yes but Marabell had no idea what it had meant. If anything. Hobbits kissed each other all the time for countless reasons. Two friends might give a kiss on the cheeks, though lips were mostly reserved for lovers. And he had been grateful. Maybe it had just been a spur of the moment thing and he hadn’t meant anything serious by it? Her mum had always said he was a very friendly soul. Maybe that was it.

It still brought back the point that she was seriously lacking in the knowledge of dwarven customs, and more to the point, courtship.  

 


	23. Chapter 23

Dis didn’t answer when Marabell checked her rooms. There were also no answers from Kili, Fili or Thorin’s chambers. As she puzzled over where she might find them, she found herself heading towards Balin’s office.

“Princess Mara.” She stopped and turned towards the guardsmen coming towards her. He was young and she recognized him as being one of the guards stationed near the royal wing. He gave her a quick bow when he caught up to her. “Forgive me, Princess. But King Thorin has asked for you to join him at the Great Forges.”

“The forges?” She hadn’t been down that far yet. The massive forges were closer to the center of the mountain and some levels below the crafters halls.

The guard nodded in confirmation. “I would be happy to take you there if you do not know the way.” She smiled gratefully and gestured for him to lead on.

Their path took them passed Balin’s office and she asked the guard to wait a moment as she knocked. Balin answered the door himself with a smile. “Is there something I can help you with, lass?” He opened the door for her to enter but she stayed in the hall.

“I was just looking for Dis. If you’ve seen her.”

Balin made a thoughtful noise. “I haven’t as of this morning, but I’ll pass it on that you’re looking for her.” His keen eye noticed the guard waiting silently down the hallway. “Going somewhere?”

She nodded. “Da wants to see me. I don’t know my way to that section of the city yet. So I’ve found some help.”

Feeling eyes on him, the dwarven guard turned and gave Balin a respectful now. The sight of steel on the princess’s hip also helped to ease Balin’s worry for the moment. He didn’t like the idea that she might get lost within the city. Erebor was a great kingdom, but all good places had their shadows. “I have a few things I need to speak to Thorin about as well. How about I come along then?”

Marabell smiled. “I don’t see why not.”

Together they followed along behind the guide. Ever one to make a lesson out of nothing, Balin casually drilled her on her Khuzdul. It wasn’t till they had passed by the market that he looked about with a frown. “Where exactly are we headed?”

“The Great Forges,” Marabell answered with an exciting glint in her eye. “I’m ashamed to admit I had forgotten about them.”

Balin smiled. “There are three Great Forges. Each is run by a different section of the smithing guilds. Mostly they are used for our larger refinements. We’ve been using them lately to smelt iron. While Erebor is known for its gold, we’ve recently opened up a deep iron vain.”

“What do you do with it after?”

“Most will be traded. Rohan and Gondor buy the bulk of what we can offer. In exchange they give us the items we cannot make ourselves such as grains and textile goods.” He gave her a small grin. “Trading, and knowing who has what to offer, is important to know while governing a kingdom. Your father needs to know what supplies the kingdom has to offer and needs in order to make sure everyone’s needs are met.”

Marabell looked a little overwhelmed by the thought. “Seems like a lot to have to know.”

Balin chuckled good naturedly. “He doesn’t have to do everything himself. It’s important to know when to delegate. In fact Fili handles much of the kingdom’s trade agreements at the moment. He works closely with the Merchant Guilds and myself to make sure our stores are well stocked.”

She smiled brightly. “Fili will make a good king.”

Balin’s eyes moved from her glowing expression to her raven locks. While her braids were neat and befitting a princess, the old dwarf would recognize the golden prince’s handly anywhere. It helped then that he had styled it much the same way as he did his own. Only instead of a clasp holding it at the back he had done a tight braided tail. “Aye, that he will.”

The air grew steadily warmer as the neared the heart of the mountain. By the time they were passing through the gates there were small specks of sweat forming on Marabell’s brow and she was second guessing wearing her cloak.

Her escort stopped just outside the gates with a half bow. “Shall I wait?” Uncertain, she looked to Balin.

The older dwarf nodded. “If you aren’t required back at your post and do not mind.”

“I will wait then, Lord Balin,” the guard bowed again.

Balin held an arm out behind Marabell’s back to direct her through the large guarded iron gates. “It’s a good time come down here. It can be quite hectic at times. However most of the workers will still be recovering from last night’s festivities,” he chuckled.

There was a small table set just inside with a tried looking bespectacled dwarf rubbing his temples over a well-used ledger. “Roken,” Balin greeted as they approached.

“Ah, Lord Balin,” he returned and stood. “Princess Marabell,” he bowed. “What might I do for you?”

Balin grinned. “I was hoping you might be able to point us towards our King.”

“King Thorin?” Roken frowned, looking about the hot open area. “I haven’t seen him today.”

Balin just smiled as he does. “Well, we might have beaten him here then. Knowing him he’s just been delayed. Please inform his majesty when he arrives.” He turned back to the princess. “Let me show you around while we wait.”

Though Smaug had been gone for nearly four decades there were still areas of the forges under repair, Balin explained as they walked with a patient voice. Their main focus had been in restoring the forges when they had first taken back their home. The watergate needed to be repaired and ruble had to be removed.

“You have seen the Gilded Hall, have you not?”

“The…? No I haven’t.”

Balin looked surprised. “I was sure one of the princes would have taken you there. It was the Hall of Kings. King Thror in his gold lust had commissioned a massive statue of himself to be placed within the hall which was never completed before we lost the city. While reclaiming the mountain we had hoped to use the molten gold against Smaug but it failed. You’ll have to see it for yourself.”

They had nearly completed a full lap of the great room, having kept close to the outer walls where cooler air flowed in from the hallways. Chains rattled overhead as baskets of ore moved passed with the fall of water from the mills and rough dwarven voices echoed about. Marabell was fascinated by the great dwarven faces of the watergates with their open mouths. She remembered them from her mum’s stories. She also loved how the flames of the forges burned so hot at times they flared with bright blue fire. She had never seen such a thing.

It was during their second round in which Marabell figured she’d been forgotten about.

“I’m sure that something must have come up. This late in the day most folks have already heading home for the night.” Indeed most of the workers had already cleared out. Only a small crew would remain on hand throughout the night to keep the fires going. “Why don’t we leave a word with Roken and head down to the halls for some supper. I’m sure whatever it was Thorin wished to show you can wait another day.”

They were surprised to see their young guard missing when they go to leave. A quick inquiry with the forge guards said that he had been called away. “Hmmm,” Balin suddenly looked a bit wary. “Well it’s a good thing I came along now. It wouldn’t have been a good idea for you to be wandering alone down here.”

“Why is that? We’re not that far from the market. I’m sure I would have found my way there eventually.”

He gave her a disapproving look which had her frowning. “That might be, but there are other areas close by, not including several mine openings, which can be quite dangerous. Even Fili and Kili do not travel around alone.” She chewed her bottom lip. Seeing this he tried to reassure her. “I’m not trying to scare you, lass. However a healthy dose of paranoia makes for a long-lived king, or princess.”

The rest of the trip back was uneventful. Still she couldn’t help but feel disappointed at Thorin’s absence and not the least bit hungry when Balin suggested they get something to eat. “Do you think Ori would be home at this time?”

The old dwarf thought on that for a moment. “This time of day? She’s still likely in the library. The lass works far too much most days. Those books have been waiting over a hundred years, a bit longer yet won't make too much of a difference.”

Balin was right of course. Ori was nose deep in her notes and journals when Marabell found her some time later holed up in the library. When she didn’t notice Marabell right away, she took to one of the nearby chairs to wait for her friend to finish whatever it was that had her so focused.

Ori eventually sat back, blinking large, tried looking brown eyes. “Bell? How long have you been sitting there?”

“Not that long,” she answered even though dinner had likely long passed. She resettled in the armchair Ori had started to keep beside to her desk. Usually Frodo or Sam would sit with her. Frodo reading or Sam helping Ori with a book she had been restoring about plants. Though Sam was still learning much about gardening, her father was one of the best in the Shire and already she was showing great promise.

Marabell took the seat now feeling a bit nervous. “I was hoping you might have some time to talk.”

Her tone had Ori closing the book she had been writing in and setting aside her inks. “Is something wrong?”

“No… Yes? Maybe. That’s just it. I don’t know!” She slumped forward. “I was hoping to talk to Dis but I couldn’t find her and I figured that well… you’d likely know too and it wouldn’t feel as strange talking about it with you than it would her-” She stopped at Ori’s small knowing grin. “Oh you get what I mean,” Marabell finished with a sigh.

“Not really, but I’ll try to follow along. What did you want to know?”

A blush lit her cheeks. “Courting.” Ori’s eyes widened. “I mean, dwarven courtship. I don’t want to do anything wrong again like with…”

“Tnor?” Ori supplied much to her embarrassment and Marabell just groaned into her hands.

“How was I supposed to know that he wasn’t just being friendly? Hobbits give gifts to each other just to say good morning! Stop laughing its not funny.”

Ori tried to stop but it only tapered down to a giggle. “Your mother had the exact same problem. Only she didn’t know Thorin was courting her. Imagine her surprise when she suddenly found out they were all but married.” When Bell lowered her eyes with a faint blush Ori took an interested lean forward. “Bell?”

“I-” she stopped and pursed her lips with a concentrated frown. “I know that courtships are taken very serious. But I don’t- I mean that is…” She took a deep breath. “Dis mentioned that dwarves can only have one true mate. A One. But they can love others,” she chewed her bottom lip. “I mean as in… Oh bugger it! I kissed Bofur,” she confessed, her cheeks flaming red.

“You,” Ori blinked. “Bofur?” Marabell nodded quickly, her braids jumping. Then Ori’s whole face changed with a sudden realization. “Oh! That’s why Kili said all those things.”  

Marabell groaned. “He didn’t even give me a chance to tell him first.”

“So you and Bofur are courting? Is he your One then?”

“I don’t know! I was hoping you might now.”

“Me?” She pointed to herself. “How would I know that?”

Marabell leaned forward till she was slumped against the desk, her head in her arms. “Because you found your One, and because I don’t know if by kissing him I’ve agreed to something… I dunno.” She gave a deep, heavy sigh. “With hobbits its easy!”

“Giving flowers,” Ori said much to Bell’s surprised. Until she remembered that the dwarrowdam had likely talked to her mother about such things at length for her writings.

“Yes, flowers. All I know so far is that you’re suppose to give seven gifts?”

The scribe nodded. “Yes. Although technically you only give the other six courtship gifts. If they wish to marry then they will give you the seventh gift. If all seven gifts are accepted then a courtship braid and bead are exchanged before family. After that the he will need to craft a home, if he doesn’t already have one. Since you would be joined into his family. It can either be a room with their family's halls or a new dwelling. Though it’s a little different with you being the crown princess. In your case he’d be expected to move into your halls.”

“Oh, I guess that makes sense. Then you’d get married?”

“Only when the bride’s father or closest male kin approves of the home and gives his blessing. He might even go so far as to request more tasks to be finished before he will allow them to wed.”

“What are dwarven weddings like?” She asked thinking about the string of parties which normally run during the first spring bloom and around the fall harvest when the Party Tree’s leaves were brightly coloured. “It always felt like each wedding party was trying to outdo the last in the Shire.”

Ori did her best to school her features, despite the racing of her heart and the sweating of her palms. She had dreamed of all this for herself, but now there was nothing for it. She shifted the papers about to give herself a moment and took a breath. “Our weddings are private. The couple sits together and recites the Seven Blessings before doing their wedding braids.”

The pairs were silent for a moment. “Are you thinking of courting him then?” Ori asked.

“I… hadn’t even thought about it, to be honest. The kiss just kind of happened.”

“Is it different for hobbits? The kissing, I mean. Is it only shared between lovers?”

“Well, no. It’s not uncommon for pairs to kiss just for the fun of it. Or practice,” she flushed again. “It’s just… I haven’t kissed anyone before.”

Ori looked surprised. “No one?”

She shook her head. “Have you?” she countered and Ori nodded. “Who? Dwalin?”

She flinched at the name but Marabell didn’t seem to notice. “My brothers can never find out,” There was a light dusting of pink across her cheeks, a mixture of her thoughts of Dwalin and for what she was going to confess. “But I’ve kissed Kili and Fili before.”

“What?” Marabell nearly choked at the unexpected answer. Her heart lurched at the news, her hands coming up to press against her chest. Even as the image of them together rose up in her mind. With a shaky breath she managed to close her mouth enough to ask, “Often? Or… just the once?”

Ori blushed a bit hotter. “There have been a few occasions,” she admitted. “Normally after a lot of drinking. I think they enjoy the challenge of trying to steal me away from my brothers.” Her gaze lowered. “And I had hoped it would make him jealous.”

The softer remark was not lost on Bell and she didn’t need to ask who she was referring to. “Did something happen? Between you and Dwalin I mean, on Durin’s Day?” When her friends eyes suddenly starter to water Marabell quickly drew her into a crushing hug. “Oh, hey…” She had not been expecting Ori to break out into great heaving sobs but soon enough she found her shoulder wet and her friend left hiccupping in her arms. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Ori shook her head in a confusing manner as if to say yes and no at the same time. There was a muffled, “Can’t,” followed by a deep stuttering breath.

Marabell soothed an arm up and down her back. “Did he… not feel the same?” The renewal of tears was enough of an answer for the dwobbit and she silently held her friend as she cried herself out again. 

* * *

Thorin was holding council the following morning in one of the smaller council chambers off from the throne room. Now at the start of the winter season and their new year it was time to set new plans in place. Soon the snow would begin to fall and Erebor would close its gate to hole down for the winter. Balin had given him their numbers and the size of their winter stores. They weren’t great, but they would suffice to see them to spring.

“Ori has been speaking with the hobbit lass, Samantha.”

Thorin looked up from the ledger he had been scanning to Balin with his own notes and papers spread out across the table. The much larger surface was mostly the reason the two of them were working there and not in either of their offices. It also allowed for the various councilmen and guild heads room to sit as well. “Oh?”

“I believe we might want to consider calling on the hobbits to aid us and Dale in improving our crop growth. Ori made a mention that even Frodo, who by his own admission is very poor with plants, could easily see how poor our soil is,” the older dwarf answered. “She believes its a talent all hobbits posses.”

Fili made a thoughtful noise, drawing their attention. “Mara made mention the other night that all hobbits have a strong connection to things that grow. She knew Bombur’s wife was going to birth a girl before she was even born.”

“Really?” Balin sat up. “Do you think she might be able to help?” he asked Thorin. “She’s lived amongst the hobbits for most of her life.”

 _And elves_ , he added silently to himself. With a wary, saddened sigh Thorin nodded. “We’ll have to ask her.” He looked up when Fili placed a hand on his arm with a look of understanding. There was still so much about his own daughter he didn’t know and so much he had already missed.

Dwalin strode through the doors with a darkened frown on his beardless face. With the initial shock of the change over, Thorin had to admit while it was still strange to see the hair gone, it had only served to make the dwarf appear larger, his chest more prominent beneath the armor. “Ya missing a guardsmen?” he directed at Thorin.

“I don’t know. Am I?” He rose a brow.

The warrior frowned harder. “Akron, son of Arok. Some of my men found his body tucked away in a corner not far from the markets. He was posted on rotation in the royal wing. His partner, Frar is also missing.”

Balin looked thoughtful. “He wouldn’t be a young dwarf with red-brown hair?”

“Aye,” Dwalin scowled with a nod. “Ya know him?”

“He escorted Marabell and I down to the Great Forges yesterday. He was to wait but the guards said he was called away.” Balin looked to his king. “She was quite disappointed that you didn’t show.”

Thorin looked all together puzzled. “Show? I wasn’t aware she wanted to meet me there.” He scowled then. “Besides, she shouldn’t be there herself. There is still a lot of construction in that area and its too close to the lower levels.”

“Uncle, she’s going to be curious. We’ve hardly taken the time to show her things properly as caught up in meetings as we’ve had been. Once we sort this out,” Fili waved a hand over the papers. “We’ll be able to give her a proper tour. Besides, Balin was with her.” The prince turned his sharp blue eyes to him though his smirk slipped at Balin’s worried expression.

“It was a good thing too, it seems. She stopped by my office looking for Dis on her way to meet _you_ in at the forges. Said you had called for her.”

“What?” Thorin roared, rising from his seat.

Balin quickly continued on. “Had I not been there, she would have been left on her own for quite some time. The guard likely knew something or was removed to make sure she was isolated. She would have either had to find her own path back, which is likely, or asked another to guide her.”

Fili looked pale. “They could have lead her anywhere. She’d have followed any guard with a friendly face who offered to help.”

Thorin cursed colourfully. “Where is she now?” he demanded. He’d seen her at breakfast but hadn’t paid much attention to what she had said her plans were for the day. When no one answer he cursed again. “Nori should have someone shadowing her. Find her, Dwalin, and don’t let her out of your sight.” He wasn’t surprised when Fili rose from his chair as well and followed after the guard.

Balin just looked uneasy. “We should have expected this-”

“Expected what?” Gandalf walked into the room, staff clicking against the stone. “And why all the rushing around? Dwalin and Fili seemed to be in some hurry.”

Thorin was too upset to bother answering the wizard’s concern. Instead he pushed back from his chair and paced to keep himself from bolting out the door. He would not be seen jumping at shadows. Though it was clear that someone had attempted to lure Marabell away. To what purpose was still unknown.

Balin took that moment in quickly summarize what had occurred. “And what will be done of it?” Gandalf demanded with a sharp click of his staff. “Is she to remain here in fear?”

Thorin turned at that. “Do you seek to take her from the mountain then. From her _home_?”

Gandalf simply huffed. “I will not take the child anywhere she does not wish to go. Which doesn’t change the fact that winter is upon us now, your gates closed. While the northern orcs will be trapped within their holes as well, you still have a traitor locked within yours.”

Thorin growled with a sneer. “You think I do not know that! Do you think in all these years there haven’t been attempts made on our lives? On my own and my sons? For as long a king rules there will always be those who wish he wasn’t. You know that as much as I do.”

“Da?” Marabell hovered uncertainly in the doorway. The relief at seeing her dropped his shoulders and he made short work of the distance between them to pull her into a tight embrace. She returned it readily. “What’s going on?”

Nori slipped through the door behind her to lean back against the wall.

With her large worried eyes, so much like his own, Thorin wanted nothing else than to tell her everything was fine and to hold her close. But he knew he couldn’t do that. He was proud to see her sword, always at her side, under the furred cloak he’d had made for her. He wished he had seen her as a babe, held her close and had watched her grow. Instead he had this beautiful young daughter which he was still getting to know. Every day he thanked Mahal for her forgiveness and for giving him this chance to be a father.

Now the thought of losing her was too much. His arms tightened and he buried his face into the hair at her shoulder.

“Da?” She sounded even more worried now, her hand rubbing up and down his back in a soothing manner. “What’s wrong?

“I’m sorry,” he muttered before pulling back. He didn’t let her go. Instead he brought their heads together before stepping back and turning from her.

Looking from her father’s retreating back her eyes found Balin looking grim. “Did something..?”

“Have a seat, lass.”

She did so stiffly, still watching her father from the corner of her eye. Gandalf settled into a chair to her left while Nori stayed by the door, arms crossed and head lowered. “You’re scaring me. Was there another attack?”

Balin cleared his throat. “Not as such, no.” It took a moment to get the whole story. He didn’t leave anything out. It was better for her to know and be aware, than to be caught unaware. When he finished she looked less upset and more resolved than anything else, her brows pitched.

“Is that why you’ve had Nori following me all this time?” They all startled at that. “I mean,” she continued, turning in her seat to give the spy a look. “I figured that was likely the reason. Though this reminds me that I have a something for you, Nori. From mum. I’ve been meaning to give it to you for a while now but we’ve all been a bit busy.” He gave her a slightly confused nod to show he had heard her. She grinned.

“A level headed as her mother,” Gandalf smiled fondly. “I know you will take care of yourself, dear. However try not to be too hard on your family. They only wish to see you safe.”

“I know,” she sighed. “Just, wish this wasn’t necessary.”

The wizard patted her on the shoulder as he stood. “Would the world think like hobbits. As such I must be off. There are places I need to be and I fear I have tarried too long as it is. I will return in the spring, if I can and send work if I cannot, to bring the hobbits back to the Shire.”

“Thank you, Gandalf.” Thorin’s voice was still thick, but he bowed his head. “We will keep them safe till then.”

“Can I see you out?” Marabell asked before blushing slightly. “I mean, it’s only proper to show a guest to the door when they leave.”

“Is it now?” The wizard chuckled even as he offered her his arm. “I would be honoured, princess.”

As the pair left the room, the spy sought out his king’s gaze. Only when Thorin inclined his head did Nori move from his post to follow behind.

Gandalf was slow as they moved down the hall. He leaned on his staff, looking somewhat bent and old. “You will take care of yourself.” It wasn’t so much a question, as a statement.

She gave him a soft smile. “I’ll do my best.”

He hummed at that. “Keep an eye on the hobbits. I fear Merry and Pippin will get into no end of trouble while confined within these halls.”

“I will.”

He stopped, pulling her around before him. He had know this young dwobbit since her birth. He could see the confusion lost below the surface. Marabell had always struggled to find her place. It hadn’t been in Rivendell amongst the elves, or at the Shire surrounded by her gentler kin. He hoped she could find a place amongst her father’s people. Already he was pleased by the love and care she already received from them in such a short time. Fili and Kili had taken to her as brothers, as they should and Thorin was doing his best to fill the role of father. “Remember to follow what you feel in here,” he tapped the center of her chest. “You have your mother’s heart. It never lead her astray and yours won't either. You will find what you’re looking for. Just give it some time.”


	24. Chapter 24

It had been snowing for close to three days and the gates had been closed to keep out the cold and blowing snow. Erebor was once again emptied of the influx of visitors which had promptly left after the festivities hoping to beat the first of the winter storms on their return home.

Snow continued to drift in through the open upper ramparts to swirl around in fluffy flakes along the lower pathways. Pippin caught sight of one such growling mound of white collecting in a corner with an excited grin. Casting a quick eye to Merry and prince Kili, he snuck over to grab a good sized handful.

“Hey Merry!” he called before letting the newly formed snowball fly.

Eyes widening Merry managed to jump to the side with a triumphant “Ha!” as the ball sailed passed and over the edge of the walkway. The pair grinned as they laughed.

A moment later a startled yelp and angry shouting came up from below leaving the two to snicker even harder.

Kili gave a bark of laughter. “Oh, you’ve done it now. We’re going to have to hide if we don’t want old Gizzen finding us,” he said even as he smiled and gave a cheeky wave over the edge to the angry dwarves. “Come on,” he grabbed both their hands to took off running down the hall as heavy steps marched towards the pathway they had just been standing on.

They didn’t have go too far before they felt it was safe to slow down. “Well that was fun,” Pippin grinned. “Now what do we want to do next?”

“I think we need to get us more snow.” Merry thought with a hand on his chin.

“And how are we going to do that? They’ve closed the gates, so we can’t go outside.”

Kili placed a hand on both their shoulders. “Getting the snow isn’t going to be a problem. It’s what you want to do with it which is the real question.”

Fili found them some hours later in the throne room. He huffed fondly with a shake of his head. “You know uncle is going to kill you when he sees this.”

Kili stole a quick glance over his shoulder before returning to put some more details into his snow sculpture. “It’s not like anyone is going to need this room today. It’ll all melt before court in the morning so what’s the big deal.”

Fili took his time approaching, toeing a wet bucket next to a coil of rope left on the ground. “Did you seriously throw buckets out over the wall to pull up snow?” He noticed his brother flinch slightly but he said nothing.

“It was a great idea!” Pippin turned to the prince. “I’m sure we would have thought of it eventually. Ouch!” The hobbit glared at Merry. “What was that for?”

Merry thought for a moment. “I’m not quite sure,” he just smiled which earned him a handful of snow down the back of his collar. With a yelp he was off running, Pippin not far behind with another cold handful.

Kili laughed as he leaned back against the arm of the throne. Those two sure had a lot of engery. He looked to his brother. “Well, what do you think?”

“It that supposed to be Thorin?”

His brother frowned. “No, it’s you.” He pouted.

Fili was surprised and now that he had mentioned it he could see his likeness in the snow figure sitting on the stone seat. “And that melting pile over there?” He pointed to the left of the chair. “Going to make one of yourself were you?” When his brother got a sly look and smiled Fili’s grin slipped. “Kee…” he said warningly.

“It’s not like they’d figure it out and if anyone asked I was just going to tell them I ran out of snow before I could make one of myself.” When his brother remained silent, he cast a quick eye towards the hobbits before approaching. “Fee, we’re all locked together till spring. She can’t leave till then.” Fili sucked in a breath. “You know she’s going to go with the hobbits. She has to take care of Bag End regardless.”

“I might have forgotten,” he said slowly. Eyes low and his heart pained at the very thought.

“Hey,” Kili gripped his arms. “There is still the chance we could go with them.”

Fili pulled back. “I doubt Thorin will give us the option.” He turned his back to his brother and left the room.

* * *

Bofur was cutting potatoes.

It wasn’t a thing he did very often and he wasn’t a good as some at it, but it was a simple task to cut off the skins. It was a lot like craving a bit of wood and if every now and then a bit was tossed into the boiling water looking a bit like a fish or some other animal… Well his brother didn’t say anything against it.

He had stolen the task from his brother who seemed fit to nod off at any given moment. He knew his new tiny lass was keeping them all up throughout the night and Bofur, sleeping soundly in the workroom of his store, was eager to help them out. He rather liked all his brother’s fingers where they were and it would be a shame for him to slip with the knife and take any of them off.

He hummed to himself as he worked. Truly he should be quite content with how things were. He had a lovely little niece to dote on - a true blessing from Durin himself. He had a new purpose in working the store again. How he had missed working with a bit of wood and his knife! His family was warm, safe and content in their lives. They wanted for nothing. Truly he had no reason to be anything close to unhappy.

Yet he was and he was not blind as to not know the cause of it too. It had been days since he had last seen Bell. Her growing list of duties as crown princess kept her far away from his area of the mountain. If he kept still long enough he could still feel the sting of Durin’s Day around his heart. The sharp, biting reaction upon hearing that she had taken a suitor. Admittedly it had been a misunderstanding on her part, which helped ease the pain but still.

He wondered if she knew that the nobles loved to talk.

Bofur knew nothing of this Tnor personally. He hadn’t seen the younger dwarf nor did he wish to. He had however, heard plenty about the male since the feastival. A young noble lord from the Iron Hills. Erebor was all a flutter saying it was love at first sight.

He knew that wasn’t the case. She had made it very clear to the rest of the Company that night that she hadn’t known what accepting the gift meant. The fact that Tnor hadn’t yet graced her with a second gift however meant that their courtship was still very much in place and it would be in very bad taste for her to court another at the same time.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise!” Bombur greeted.

Bofur glanced up from his task before doing a double take. Marabell entered looking simply dishearten, though she smiled at the friendly greeting. Their newest princess hadn’t yet noticed Bofur, tucked away in the corner as he was. He took a moment to look at her.

She was dressed in heavy robes a mix of greens and greys. They were simple for a princess, and likely the plainest thing she had in her wardrobe now. Bombur had mentioned that Dori had been hard at work applying his trade to make sure both she, and the hobbits, at new garments to wear. While the mountain was warmer than the outside, it was not as comfortable as one might think and even Bofur, used to the deep chill of the mines, wore thicker under layers during the shut-in months.

Her inky hair was braided back into a single long plait down her back. It was nothing fancy, so she had likely done it herself that morning. Also in true hobbit fashion she wore no jewels or precious metals save for the ones in her beads. He wondered what the other nobles made of that. In their eyes she would look sorely under dressed. To him she looked perfect.

She was telling his brother about her morning as Bofur came up behind her with a grin. His brother met his eyes briefly, but at Bofur’s cheeky smile did his best not to draw attention to him.

“But he said that while he liked my enthusiasm, he had too much work to finish and that my lessons would need to wait. Then I couldn’t find Ori or Frodo and the others. I checked the library but no one was there. I even headed down to the market but the Red Dragon was closed,” she finished with a sigh and a sad, lonely look.

“They’ve just left ya alone?”

Marabell jumped as Bofur sudden spoke. The hatted dwarf looked downright pissed and Marabell looked away somewhat nervously. It was an odd thing to see their halfling princess look so meek. “We’ll- I mean, I have my sword with me. So it’s not like I couldn’t protect myself.”

The whole Company had been informed of the failed, and somewhat poorly planned, attempt on her life. Thorin had been reluctant to tell them at first but Balin had argued that it would do Bell well to have more sets of eyes keeping a watch on her. To hear now that she had been so sorely abandoned by her friends and kin that morning sat poorly with Bofur.

Marabell for her part was nervous. If she was being honest with herself she had been using her studies as a means to avoid having to speak to Bofur. Even after her talk with Ori she had no idea where the two of them stood. Seeing him suddenly standing behind her and clearly upset didn’t help things. She had finally managed to gather her wits enough to seek him out at his store only to find it closed. She had thought herself off the hook for a little while yet.

Which was good because she wasn’t sure what she was going to say.

Bofur shook himself. His dimpled smile returning in full. “Let’s not worry, huh? You’re here now. You can help me peel some potatoes.” Her uncertainly vanished at the suggestion and she smiled brightly in return.

His brother left them too it. Bofur was happy for it and sent him his thanks as Bell settled onto the bench he had been seated at and picked up a knife. They worked in silence for a while and while they were hardly alone in the bustling room, there was an odd sense of privacy in their little corner of the kitchen.

“How have ya been keeping?” he ventured when he could take the silence no more. He had missed her these last days.

She looked up from her work. “Busy. It seems there is a lot I need to learn.” She cheeks flushed a pretty pink as she dropped her head back to her hands. “I’m sorry. I know you know it was a misunderstanding and all but I had hoped to mention it before you found out.”

The courtship. He set down his knife, mitted hand reaching to tug on the end of his long mustache. “Aye, I think it’s time we talked.” He took her hand, feeling the warmth of it through his glove as he pulled her from her seat. “Brother, we’ll be in the back a moment if ya need us.” Bombur gave him a confused look but nodded.

“Bofur?” Marabell questioned as she followed behind. The miner turned toymaker opened the door to the mostly unused storeroom, pulling her inside. Somehow she found herself back into the door a moment later, the press of her weight closing it behind them. Bofur stood before her, close enough to feel his warmth but with enough room to allow her to escape if she wished. Her wide gaze fixed on his hazel eyes.

“We didn’t get a chance. So I have no right to claim anything you aren’t willin’ to give. I had hoped to know your feelings more before I asked. I did not want to rush it.” Unable to hold her eyes he dropped his and took a small step back so he wasn’t crowding her. He pulled his hat from his head, wringing the poor battered thing between in hands. “I know it was awfully forward of me before and I should have asked permission before kissing ya. I just couldn’t help myself really. Though that is no excuse!”

Sweet and bashful Bofur. Marabell couldn’t stop her slow, warm smile as her heart jumped slightly at the confession. Honestly she had been working hard to keep her mind from thinking about it. Unsure if she wanted to pretend it hadn’t happened or talk more on it. It felt like such a big thing and it was new. New enough to be confusing. After all it had been her first kiss.

He gaze rose slightly at her silence. Shoulders curling down he took another step back.

“Bofur-” She reached out, catching his hand. Something in her couldn’t stand to see the hurt expression there. “I… Honestly,” Now it was her turn to look away. “I’ve never- No one had ever… wanted me like that. I mean, before I hadn’t even kissed someone-” She stopped when she felt his hand jerk in surprise within her grasp. His expression was one of disbelief.

“How could-? Bell, you’re beautiful and kind and lovely. How could no one…” He searched her gaze before using her grasp on his hand to pull her in. He held her gently to his chest, his other hand coming around her back, his hat caught hanging from his fingers. “It’s their loss then.” His breath tickled her face. “If you’ll let me, I’d court you proper.”

“You..?” Her heart fluttered even as her breath caught. “Really?”

His dimpled smile reach far up to his eyes to make them sparkle. “Oh, aye. If you’ll have me, that is.”

“I-” she flushed, lowering her eyes. “I’m not sure. To be honest.”

He chuckled and couldn’t stop himself from pressing a kiss to her forehead before releasing her. “I’ll not rush ya. Though I will warn ya that you cannot accept more than one courting at a time.” She looked surprised by that and he chuckled again. “Your mum mentioned it once, that hobbits can court any number at a time.”

She nodded. “It’s common to have several suitors, yes.” Her brows pulled down with a huff as she crossed her arms. “I still can’t believe what a mess accepting a simple gift has caused!”

He smiled at the deflection from his offer and quickly pulled the conversation back on course. “Think on it. I’ve lived this long, I can wait a bit longer yet till you know for sure. Till then I still expect to see you around the Red Dragon. I could use the help and I’m sure having our crown princess will draw all kinds of customers.” He chuckled when she lightly swatted at his arm.

“Oh I see! Using me to sell your toys,” she pouted. “Wasn’t it enough that I cleaned up the shop for you? I’m still coughing up dust, I’ll have you know.” Her wide grinned warmed him so deeply. He wouldn’t have her unless she was sure. His heart wouldn’t be able to take it, he knew, if she later changed her mind. He wondered what his brother was going to say when he told him later and let his smile shine as the dwobbit continued to chatter on. 

* * *

Thorin, Balin and a handful of councilmen passed through the throne room on their way to the meeting chambers. Balin had a thick book open across one palm as he read aloud the figures being requesting by the diggers and the supplies they currently had on hand. One lucky miner had found a new vein of gold and the foremen were impatient to open up the new shaft.

“They’ve also requested, or I should say hinted at heavily, their desire to give their new crown princess a guided tour.”

Thorin pulled a face. “I’m sure they have.”

Balin sighed, closing the book. “You can’t blame them. Rurhot is still picking gems from the cluster she uncovered in the south tunnels. Although we hardly need the wealth, it’s a good way to bolster our peoples’ spirits during the winter shut-in.”

“I’ll not have her used that way,” Thorin sneered.

Balin just gave him a look. “You wouldn’t be using her. I’m sure if asked she’d be happy to.”

“She would,” his tone was crisp and no less angry at the thought. The shafts were dangerous even on the best of days. They were no place for a princess, let alone his daughter. Not to mention that someone had already made an attempt on her life, however poor it had been. It would be nothing for a quick knife to be taken to her line while being lowered into the deeper sections of the tunnels where their best treasures still lay hidden.

A strangled choking gasp from one of the trailing nobles had the pair turning to see what the fuss was about. The king sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Balin just chuckled. “I fear our young guests are going to keep us on our toes this winter as well.”

“The hobbits did this? Is that what you are saying?” Gruer sputtered. His face flushed an angry red which clashed with the clean silver of his braid caps and graying hair. Stuffy old noble. Thorin had never liked him. Not even during his grandfathers rule when he had been young, the only son of a noble line and far too eager to please his king.

Thorin could see the rising angry within the other dwarves. His counsel seemed too quick to follow Gruer‘s explain of outrage and knew they had taken this action to be a slight where was not one. “Let the children have their fun. No harm has been done and it will melt away soon enough.” He wondered if he should mention that he could clearly see the handy work of a certain nephew in the slowly melting snow figure sitting on the throne. It wasn’t the first time he had made such things. Though Thorin knew with some certainly that had there been court set for that day that they’d have likely found the snow sculptures somewhere else.

Thinking of the hobbits brought to mind their idea for a new colony at the base of the mountain. He hadn’t given it much thought, nor had he mentioned it to anyone else. “Balin, what are your thoughts of establishing a new colony just east of us.”

His white brows jumped up. “A colony for who?”

Thorin grinned. “Hobbits.”

 


	25. Chapter 25

It took a week before she found Nori waiting for her in her sitting room. She smiled at the dwarf. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten.”

He returned her grin with a sharp one of his own. “No. I hadn’t forgotten. It’s not always so easy to slip away.”

She hummed in agreement. Shrugging out of her fur lined cloak to folded it over the back of one of the chairs. “Well I’m happy you did. Honestly I should have given this to you ages ago but everyone is always so busy,” she sighed with a shake of her head. He simply smirked. “Just a moment.” She slipped around him and into her bedroom.

She had her pack still sitting in the back of her closet and pulled it out.The only things left inside were Nori’s wrapped gift and an envelope for Dwalin. She tucked the letter into her pocket before taking up the package.

Nori had the large fist-size rough cut crystal between his hands. He turned it about in the light, watching the play of colours through its surface. Marabell had little idea what to do with the thing. Had she a desk it might have made a good paper weight. As such she had placed it up on the mantle.

“I’d ask how you knew I’ve been following ya,” he drawled, looking at her through the gem. He grinned then, all bright teeth. “But I can hazard a guess.” He tilted his head. “Your mum could always tell where I was as well.”

Nori had an odd way of making her nervous. Not that she didn’t trust him, but the way he acted at times was a bit predatory. None the less she smiled. “Well, there is one things hobbits have over dwarves.”

“Oh?”

“We don’t wear big clunky boots.”

He laughed. “Oh, aye? Then what do you call those things on your feet?” Her sudden downturned expressed told the spymaster he’d hit a nerve with that one. “Nah, lass. Don’t look like that. Should our all mighty kingly father see you, I’d get a ringing for putting that sad look there.”

She sighed. “No, its okay. I’m sorry. Just… it was always a bit of a sore subject in the Shire. Too dwarven to be a hobbit. To hobbity to be a dwarf.”

Nori gave her a considering look. “Is that so? I think you’re fitting in just fine here. I have ears all over this kingdom, and a few others as well, and I have yet to hear a single whisper calling you undwarven.”  

Somehow that warmed her. She shifted on her feet. “But you have heard some things.” The spy inclined his head but didn’t speak further on it. She let him keep his secrets. She probably didn't want to know anyways. Instead she held out the carefully wrapped oilskin bundle. “As I’m sure you know, mum left something to each member of the Company.”

He nodded as he took it from her hands. “Aye, I’d heard from my brother and Ori some. Seen a few others.” He turned it over with a careful eye. Without opening it he tucked it into his coat. “Thank ya for seeing this to me.” He gave a quick half bow before turning for the door.

As he left he felt the weight of the gift pressed against his heart. It was too good for him. He didn’t deserve such a thought from their Bilba. Not when they’d failed her. He could have gone after her. He’d caught wind that she was with the elves. Had kept the news to himself. How things might have changed had he gone like he was first inclined too. But then Ori and Dori needed him there and Thorin had needed his help with the influx of dwarves coming in from all corners. Someone needed to keep an eye open for the dirty and low. Had to make sure none took advantage and all were seen to as fairly as one could.

He knocked on the king’s door and waited for the muted admission before opening it and slipping inside. Thorin was seated behind his desk looking over a spread of papers. “Nori.” He acknowledged without looking up.

“I’m afraid I’ve found nothing. No leads on who might be behind the attack or if they are linked to those aiding the Orcs and leaking the information.”

“Nothing?” Thorin did looked up at that, looking none too pleased.

Nori shook his head. “They are either very good or small enough to slip passed my nets. I will keep searching.”

“Do that. Anything else?”

He frowned. “Aye. More talks of Khazad-dûm. Seems a few lower nobs want ta see if they can make their fortune away from the Company. And you, of course. See a king of their choosing on a new throne.”

Thorin frowned but ultimately dismissed it. “Anything else?”

“I took a look into Tnor, son of Vnor, at your request. From what I’ve discovered there is no dark plot surrounding his courtship offer. As much as you’d like there to be,” he cheeked and his king glared. “He’s from a minor noble house in good standing and with no strong ambitions or debt. Seems like they also knew each other before the offer was made.”

“What? When did they have a chance to meet?”

“Through one of Dwalin’s lessons. Seems your daughter beat him soundly in a dual.” Thorin groaned as Nori grinned. “Oh, aye. From what I’ve gathered he’s been rather smitten with her since.”

“Oh course he has.” Thorin rubbed a hand over his face. If there was one thing a dwarf liked was a lass with fight to her. “So where does this leave us?”

The spy shrugged. “Not sure. He headed back to the Iron Hills with the others.”

He groaned. “It was bad enough dealing with Dain. Since she fell through on her promise to watch his son in the Provings he sought to have me send her to the hills for a time as I did with Fili. Said it would be good for her. I still think he’s hoping to make a match there. He’s not going to make things easy on the lad’s family for stealing her attention away from young Thorin.”

Nori leaned against the wall and said nothing. His king had enough on his mind without knowing there was more going on. Yet. “I don’t know why you make me ask for things you already plan on telling me,” Thorin groused.  

Stalking forward, the tri-horned dwarf paced around the back of Thorin’s chair to lean closer to his ear. “The nobles want a tighter bloodline? They might just get there wish.” He pulled back before heading towards the door.

“What do-”

“Use your own eyes for once, my king,” he threw back before exiting.  

* * *

Sitting at breakfast with his family the following morning, Nori’s words were still ringing in his ears as he watched his daughter laugh at another of Kili’s bad jokes. He had no idea what the spymaster was insinuating. As far as he could tell there was nothing untoward between Mara and either of his sister-sons. They bickered, laughed and watched out for each other as if they had been siblings their whole lives together.

He briefly wondered how much more protective they’d have been had she been raised in Erebor. They’d have likely kept every male well outside of arm’s reach, safe from courtings and unwanted attention. Or Bofur and his misguided senses or Tnor with his half-hearted desire. Now his daughter was locked into a courtship she hadn’t even wanted. It would likely be some time before she was given the chance to end it. Due to the public nature of the offer there was no way for her to simply explain the situation in a letter and be done with it.

“Marabell,” the conversation around him lulled. “You might wish to know that Tnor has returned home.”

It seemed to take her a moment to process that information. “Okay, I guess,” she answered, unsure as to why he was telling her this.

Kili did. “What? But Bell can’t end the courtship till he gives her the next gift and he can’t do that if he’s not here!”

Fili frowned, his eyes dark. “Meaning she’d either have to go to him, or wait for him to return.”

Bell looked between the brothers even as she lightly blushed, trying not to think about Bofur’s whispered offer. “I don’t see what the rush is. I was just going to pretend it didn’t happen till he gives the next gift then call it off.”

Dis put down her fork. “It’s not that simple, dear. Were he here, we could discuss this and force his hand for the next exchange. However our courtships are often long. As such with him returned to the Iron Hills it could be some years till he returns with his next gift in hand.”

She felt the blood drain from her face even as Kili reached out to steady her, shooting a fevered look to his brother. Fili had rose from his seat with the intent of coming around to her side of the table. Seeing that his brother had her, he slowly sank back down.

Though unfortunate, Thorin suddenly realized it was a boon of sorts. With his daughter courting another, a dwarf of little consequence and much too far away to be a threat, it would mean that no other would be able to offer suit. Which meant that Bofur’s growing attention would have to stop less he caused a scandal. Which knowing the dwarf would be the last thing he’d want to do. It would be the same with the other nobles who’d been dropping hints and mentions of their sons for consideration.

Fili for his part was having a difficult time breathing. In truth he had given very little thought to the dwarf who had bloodied his lip. The cut had since healed and he had moved on. It was wrong of him, he knew, to think so lightly of the accepted courtship but he had had the same mind as his mother. That they’d just force his hand for the next gift and be done. He had no idea that the dwarf had gone. Fili couldn’t help but think it had been the plan all along. Who wouldn’t want to snare a princess, and one such as Mara besides? Though if they had expected a simple trinket to win her heart, they clearly knew nothing.

All Marabell managed to do was squeek out, “years?” Her eyes jumping between her father and aunt. She felt her cheeks burn anew and she lowered her eyes. “I mean, I guess it’s no big thing really.”

“But, Bell!” Kili protested. “What if you want to court someone?” Thorin made a sour face at that as Dis smiled. “You wouldn’t be able to.”

“Not openly.” She hadn’t really mean to say it aloud and her face blazed. Bofur’s warm, hopeful smile came to mind. She still wasn’t sure of her answer yet. In a way hiding it made her feel wrong. Like she was ashamed to be with him. Yet she wasn’t being given a choice. Even if she did say yes to him they’d have to keep it between themselves.

Lost in her own musings, she missed the raised looks of those around her. Dis caught her brother’s darkening scowl and quickly moved to head him off. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much, dear. We’ll get this sorting out. If need be you can always return the gift.”

Marabell frowned. “But I thought that wasn’t proper?”

“Well, no.” Dis leaned back in her chair. “But given the fact that you accepted it under false pretenses I don’t believe anyone would hold it against you.”

She shifted. Her hunger all but gone. Replaced by a rolling unease. “Maybe that’s for the best. If you’ll excuse me.” She rose quickly and fled the room. A swift kick from Kili had Fili up from his seat and following.

Dis sighed as the door closed. “Such a simple thing, to cause so much strife. I really think it’ll be for the best.”

Thorin had pushed his plate back. “You know we’ll have to offer them more than just the gift in return?”

She sent him a sharp glare. “Like you cannot spare the gold to see your daughter’s heart settled.” He looked suddenly forlorn at her sharp words. “Thorin…”

“No, Dis.” He wiped his hands clean, standing with his head bent. “You’re right. Her happiness is worth more than anything else.” He left the room with heavy steps.

Kili for his part looked between the door and his mother. “‘ _amad_?”

“Tell me, Kili. Is she happy here?”

The prince blinked at the unexpected question. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she leaned her arms on the table. “Is she happy? I know this hasn’t been easy. It’s been an adjustment. I just want to make sure she’s doing alright.”

Kili scratched at his beard in thought. “As far as I know. But I haven’t been able to spend much time with her. Fili would know more.”

Still she frowned. “You boys have been much too busy, you’re right. I think I might talk to Thorin about lessening your duties for a while.”

“No.”

“No?” She raised a brow at his quick refusal.

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about me,” he said sitting tall. “Fili is the one who could use more of a break anyways. Since things are quieter over the shut-in months, I thought I’d take over a few of his duties. It’s not like we’re running any patrols in all this snow and you don’t need me to mediate the meetings with the elves till spring and even then you could use Bell for that if you need to.” He grinned. “I’m sure she’d like to make sure they’re truly saying what they’re saying.”

Dis hummed and looked at her son anew. “Just who are you, and what have you done to my Kili?”

He smiled at that as he came around the table. Pressing a kiss to her forehead he said, “A prince of Erebor.”

* * *

It took most of his willpower not to follow after Mara. Though it had been his every intent upon following her out the door. His need, his desire, to comfort her… He’d caught a wisp of her black locks disappearing through her doorway before it had closed. He stood there heart shaking before tearing himself away and continuing down the hall.

“Not openly?” Fili seethed. There was a hot, bitter lick of fire along his heart. He knew it to be jealously. Though over what or against whom he wasn’t sure for the moment. It was the fact that she had already known she couldn’t court another which stuck with him. Who had she spoken to to have lead her to such a thought? The idea that it might be years before she’d be able to court another had clearly been a shock. So who was she considering?

No him. Fili knew better than to believe such hopes. To Marabell he was nothing more than a brother. No, it was someone else.

Bofur. Why the thought hadn’t come to him earlier, he didn’t know. Bofur had been hurt during the festival when Kili had taken a stab at him. They hadn’t known his feelings of course. His brother had just seen his dislike for the hatted dwarf’s familiarity and closeness with Mara and had struck out in hopes of getting him to back off. It had worked, though the guilt of Marabell’s saddened moping over Bofur’s distance for the rest of the night had outweighed his joy at her attention.

He wondered when it had all happened. Marabell had been with them for a month now and while there were days he went without laying eyes on her, he still couldn’t believe that in that time Bofur had become close enough to make an offer to court.

He glared at no one in particular as he marched down the halls. People moved from his path and those looking to catch his ear quickly changed their minds. Had Fili been so caught up in his own struggle that he had somehow allowed another to come in and take his One?

He stopped. Standing within the market the passing shoppers eyed him warily but kept their distance. For a moment he was a rock in a moving stream as they passed him by.

That had been his plan though, hadn’t it? To let her go. To remain her brother, forever at her side and never in her arms. He had planned to do nothing and watch her love and bond another. Kili had been trying to get him to fight, but Fili had been unable to get passed his own lingering doubts. Their blood was close, though he knew it not unheard of. Would it been enough to drive her back? What would others think? Or the kingdom? He was heir to the throne. He’d one day rule it. Would Erebor accept her at his side? Their children, his heirs?

Thorin had had the freedom to follow his heart. He had chased his little fiery hobbit secure in the knowledge that Fili or Kili would one day take up the crown. The princes had been weighted with the knowledge that they would have no such freedom and even know that knowledge itched.

Yet, why shouldn’t they? Were their hearts not their own? While he worked hard for the people he would one day rule, what was the point if in doing so he had to give up all which made rising worthwhile? Fili understood that being a king meant sacrifice. How that meant he should also be unhappy, he wasn’t sure. He fought with the others to gain back their home. He carried the scars of battle. Yet what was his prize? To be alone and miserable with his heart in two?

Fili turned his gaze to the open door of the Red Dragon. A small crowd was gathered out front looking at the display of toys and puzzle boxes. There was a hobbit, Pippin, standing on a box with a toy in his hand before the crowd. He was gesturing and smiling to the watching dwarves as he animately moved his arms. Fili was too far away to hear what was being said, though he got the idea that the hobbit was trying to sell the item he had in hand, all grins and cheer for his audience.

Behind the counter Merry leaned on his elbows taking coin and handing over carefully wrapped packages. He hadn’t been aware that the hobbits had taken up working in the toy shop in fill in their time. It was a good use for their energy. Kili might still find moments to share in their fun, but the weight of their duties took much of their time. It was good to see they would not be bored closed in for so long.

“Well if it isn’t Prince Fili!” Pippin bowed so low at the waist he feared he might tip off the box he was standing on. “Can I interest you in this wonderful painted puzzle box?” The hobbit gave it a small shake. “Each has a small prize inside!” He grinned.

Fili had no interest in the trinket. Much less knowing who’s hand had made it. But he was well aware of the eyes which followed him. As such he gave a small, forced smile. “Not this day, master hobbit. I’ve come to speak to Bofur.”

“Ah well, alright.” If Pippin was disappointed at the missed sale he didn’t show it. “He’s in the back,” he answered before turning back to face the crowd with a cheeky smile and an enticing wave of the toy. Instantly there was a hand coming forward to buy the item.

A bell chimed as he opened the door. Merry turned with a small bow of his own. “Mornin’, your prince-ness. Bo’s in the back.” Entering through the workshop door, he made sure to close it behind himself.

Bofur was seated up on a high stool with a small file in hand carefully working down the edges of what looked like a bird’s wing. He looked up with some surprise at seeing the prince standing there leaning back against his door. “Fili! What can I do for you today?”

Fili crossed his arms and fixed the cheery dwarf with a glare. “I want to know what your intentions are with my sister.”

“Your sister?” Bofur set down his tools, placing the delicate carving safely off to one side. He met Fili’s blue stare with an easy smile. “Thought she was your cousin.”

Fili clenched his teeth. He was in no mood for this. He should have waited till he had managed to cool himself down before approaching the other dwarf. It wouldn’t do him any favours if Marabell felt like he was trying to drive her friend away if there wasn’t anything going on. For all Fili knew this was completely one sided. Marabell seemed nothing if not lost when it came to any attention paid to her. Likely Bofur’s advances had gone as unnoticed as his own.

There was a burning against the skin of his ankle where Marabell’s dagger laid.

When it became clear that the prince wasn’t about to be baited, Bofur let his smile drop. “Did Thorin send you?”

“Thorin?” Fili started at that. “He knows?”

Bofur’s laugh was hard and bitter. “Of course he knows. He’s as protective of Bell as he was for Bilba. I’m surprised he hasn’t forbidden her from even speaking to me. Likely knows it would have only served to upset her and she’d have done it anyways.”

Fili knew he was right about that. Though the thought that his uncle knew all about Bofur’s intentions didn’t sit right with the prince. “Yet you still continue?” He growled out, losing the edge of his anger.

“Of course. It’s her decision, not his.”

Such a simple thing said with such seriousness. Bofur was not kidding around. “So you intent to court her?”

“Aye, if she’ll have me.” Fili almost expected him to lie or even back down. Yet he simply sat there with a straight face, completely unfazed by Fili’s obvious aggression.

Yet his answer was like a splash of cold water and Fili felt his ire dying. Bofur had already made his offer, but Marabell hadn’t accepted it yet. The fact that she hadn’t outright agreed meant that she had her doubts about Bofur and from what Fili had been lead to understand, hobbits mated, and married, for life. Marabell likely wouldn’t agree to anything unless she was certain that there was something there worth pursuing. That along with being confined within the rigid guidelines of dwarven courtship meant she’d have to be sure of it before committing, since it wasn’t an easy thing to call off should she change her mind.

Not to mention the added pressure of being the crown princess and knowing that everyone would be judging her choice.

Fili almost wanted to smile and instead fought it down into a stiff glare, channeling his inner Thorin. “If you hurt her-”

“Aye,” Bofur cut off the threat with a dismissive wave. “My bollocks thrown from the walls, or some equally painful thing. I have no intentions of hurting her. Of that I swear. I’ll also not be focusing an answer from her neither. I’ve said my peace, I’ll not mention it again and continue on as we have.”

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t the least bit disappointed with how reasonable Bofur was being about it. Fili would have liked a proper reason to hit the older dwarf, though Marabell would have been upset if he did. Still, this settled little in his heart other than his resolve. He wasn’t going to sit back and watch her slipped past.

The few wonderful moments he’d had with her had been enough, he had thought. The dagger in his boot a boon on the nights were his heart would not rest. Knowing she was close and the memory of her careful fingers through his hair, or his in hers. Touches stolen. They were smiles shared between siblings, though his thoughts were of anything but. No. He couldn’t take unfair advantage of her heart like that. He needed to plan.

He needed to talk to Kili.

 


	26. Chapter 26

It was Samantha who first brought it up as they were all warmly sitting within the Ri’s family apartments learning how to knit. Well, Bell was learning how to knit. Both Sam and Ori had no problems with their knitting needles and simple garments. Dis sat in the high-back with a cup a sweet tea at her elbow as her fingers carefully wound a pile of loose yarn back into its original ball form after Marabell’s first failed attempt at her scarf which had it rolling out all across the floor. Frodo, as always, had his nose in his book never far from Sam’s side. Dori, as had become his place as Samantha's protective shadow, fussed about the small kitchen making drinks and other easy sweets for his guests to nibble on as they worked.

“The Winter Solstice is coming up.”

Both Marabell and Frodo looked up with equal expressions of surprise. It had completely slipped their minds with everything else which had been going on.

“Winter Solstice?” Ori asked curiously, lowering her needles.

Dis hummed from the other armchair. “I believe it’s a holiday celebrated in the cities of men. I believe they call it the longest night of the year?”

“Yes,” Marabell nodded. “And hobbits celebrate it as well.” She smiled excitement. “I can’t believe I forgot! We’ll have to have a big dinner and invite the whole Company to attend.”

Frodo closed his book in his lap as he shuffled closer to his cousin. “Do you think you could make your mum’s spice cake?” He asked with hopeful, round eyes.

“Oh, yes!” Sam agreed. “Please, Miss Bell? It’s just not the same without it.”

Marabell had missed last year’s Solstice in the Shire. She had started her journey eastward after the fall harvest and wintered in Rivendell well into the spring. Once she had crossed the Misty Mountains, baring the initial goblin attack, she spent some time healing at Beorn’s. She had barely thought about any of the festive seasons, her thoughts caught in a nervous tangle about meeting her long absent father and the dear friends of her late mother.

“You know it’s not nearly as good as mum’s was,” she warned. Truly Bell had a fair hand in the kitchen, if only for a few select recipes. “How about we make it together?” she asked Sam. “That way you can make it back home. I know my mum wouldn’t mind,” she added at her rising protest.

She smiled brightly. “Really? Are you sure? Oh, isn’t that great, Frodo? I’ll be able to make you a spice cake next Solstice.”

Frodo blushed lightly. “Yes, Sam. I’d like that.”

Dis chuckled. “Well that’s settled then. Besides, I think its a wonderful idea. These winter months are far too dreary and we don’t get together nearly as much as we used to. I think it will be good for everyone to attend.”

As they chatted and made plans amongst themselves, Marabell caught sight of Nori slipping in through the door. The dwarf didn’t make a sound as he moved around the edge of the sitting room towards the bedrooms at the back. He give Bell a wink and she grinned.

When she’d given him the gift, she’d been disappointed to say the least. It had been the same as with her quick dismissal from Oin. She understood that some of the Company were more private than others. Nori had likely wanted to open his gift later on his own. So she was happy to see him wearing the soft deerhide black boots. The soles might not be as stiff as he was used to, but they were still warm against the colder stone and as silent as any hobbit’s feet.

* * *

With everyone settling back into their normal routines since Durin’s Day, Marabell found her herself with a new pattern as well. Each morning she would sit for lessons with Balin and Ori, with every third day starting with combat training instead. Dwalin was eager to see her skills sharpened while Bell enjoyed the time spent with Gimli and Kili when she wasn’t laying flatout in the sand thinking she was dying. Dwalin had been especially hard on her since the attempt and was taking no chances making sure she’d be strong enough to fight off the next.

It was days like this that she wished Ori would join them. However she understood her friend’s reluctance in continuing her training in light of Durin’s Day. It would take Ori time to heal her heart from Dwalin’s rejection. Marabell watched the warrior in question fighting against Kili off to the side while Gimli drilled with the others dwarves under the wide eyes of the hobbits. The small group watched from the benches chatting amongst themselves. Bell had noticed a few interested eyes drift over Sam nestled securely in the center of their group. The poor thing had been flushed since she entered the room but Frodo had wanted to come watch and she was always close to his side.

Sam wasn’t the only one getting looks. Though it seemed Kili was in full brother mode that day giving out as many glares as looks she received. A few might have also left their lessons with a couple more bruises than they were used to. As the rest of the dwarves began to file out and the prince moved to speak with Gimli and the hobbits, Marabell took the rare moment to catch Dwalin on his own.

His shortened beard still seemed off. Even with the short time she had known him. She could only imagine how shocking the change was for the others. “Dwalin?”

“Aye, lass?” He had moved off to the side to gather his gear. His twin axes had been set aside in favour of a sword. While it wasn’t his weapon of choice, he was far better at it than the darker prince.

Marabell’s face was still flushed from her time in the ring. Her breathing eased now. She looked almost guilty as she held out the small battered letter. “I know. I’m sorry. It shouldn’t have taken me this long to give this to you.”

His large hand come out to take the letter. His knuckles were battered and bloody. The injury hadn't happened while training, though the fighting had reopened them. His glare when she moved to mention them stopped her concerns. Instead he turned his attention to the letter. “From the burglar?” he grunted, thumbing open the paper.

Marabell nodded. “She wanted you to have that and she also made arrangements for something special to be shipped in from the Shire. Won’t be here till spring, I’m afraid. Hope you don’t mind terribly. Your brother’s gift is also going to be arriving then, so you’re not left out.”

Dwalin heard what the little princess was saying, however he wasn’t listening to it. His dark eyes were fixed on the neat scrawl done in blue ink.

_‘You’re wrong. But I forgive you.’ - B_

He let himself smirk even as his laugh came out more as a cough. She could have written a whole letter to make her point, but she had always understood that Dwalin was a dwarf of few words and leave it to Bilba to have the last one.

He remembered the first time they had really talked. It had been weeks into their quest and the hobbit had been sore, tired and a little more than miserable. Yet she still smiled. More so, she still smiled for _him_ and refused to show any weakness. Dwalin had had enough. That night on watch when he passed her bedroll he had told her to give it up. It wasn’t worth losing your heart over something that wasn’t going to happen. She had smiled and said that it might, but if you never tried, how would you know?

Later after Carrock and Azog when events continued to push their burglar and king together, he had warned her again that she was going to get hurt and yet she smiled.

Atop the gates of Erebor when her treachery had been relieved and she had moved to run from their king, Dwalin had grabbed her to keep her from escaping. She had fought like a hillcat for all of a heartbeat. Then the fight had just gone out of her. Thorin had taken her then. He had watched his king strike her and for a moment Bilba had met Dwalin’s eyes, pleading. She had looked to them all, frightened and hurt and they had watched as she was cast over the wall.

Yet even now, even after everything here were her words from beyond. That despite the pain it had been worth it. Looking to Marabell, Dwalin could understand. Their burglar had raised one fine, strong lass.

“Thanks,” he grunted.

Bell blinked her father’s eyes up at him, her mouth coming closed. “Um, of course.”

His smirk returned. She had obviously been saying something he hadn’t heard. Even so he ruffled her hair as he passed by and left the sands.

Confused and thoughtful, Marabell dropped to the bench beside her dark haired brother.  

Kili had taken a seat higher up in the stadium and had lit his pipe. He offered it to her now which she took with a grateful smile. “Wasn’t sure if you smoked. But I figured since Bilba did, you likely would too.”

Marabell took a long pull from the pipe, letting the smoke sit in her lungs. All she ended up doing was coughing. Kili laughed. “Not what you’re used to, huh?”

She passed back his pipe, fist over her mouth. “Urg, I forgot how bitter your pipeweed is.”

He raised an eye at that. “When you have been smoking our weed? I hadn’t seen you with a pipe.”

She smiled wistfully. “No, but mum loved it. She grew a taste for it, you know? After all hers was gone and she started knicking from your pouches. She hated it at first, but after everything… She always had a barrel brought in from the Blue Mountain.”

Kili’s eyes had grown a bit watery. “I had no idea…” With a sad smile he took another puff. He looked back to her when she rested a hand on his arm. He gave her a reassuring grin. “Just a bit lost in thought.” He tilted his head towards the sands. “What are your thoughts there?”

Gimli had managed to find some of the smaller, wooden swords used to start a dwarfling’s training. Though tweens themselves, the weapons were still a bit heavy for the hobbits to hold properly. It didn’t stop Merry or Pippin from trying to take a few swings at each other while Gimli corrected Frodo’s hold.

She laughed. “I believe Erebor will have its very first hobbit burgage come spring.” Her grin dropped when she noticed Kili’s downturned expression. “What is it?”

“You’re going to be leaving with them.” He didn’t meet her eyes.

“I…” She had been thinking about it. Going back and forth but really there wasn’t much choice. “I have to. I need to check on Bag End and see what can be saved. I got a letter back from the Thain a few days ago. He said while the damage was extensive, there were a few rooms untouched. If nothing else I need to go back to the Shire to clean up what’s left. Not to mention there’s Frodo.” Her eyes followed his small form. Gimli was running them through a drill, practicing their swings.

Marabell leaned into his side. “That doesn’t mean I won't come back.”

Kili glanced down at her upturned face. “You’re just not sure when.”

She pursed her lips. No, she didn’t know when. It would take them a few months to return to the Shire and some more yet to set things right with Bag End. She needed to see if it was worth restoring. The Thain said he would help her if that was her wish but the hill would have to be gutted back out and the smail rebuilt. It would takes years to see it right and would never be the same.

Then there was Frodo. He’d have to return to Brandy Hall unless she could find another home to take him in. While an exception had been made for him to live on his own in Bag End, he was still very much a youngster some years from his majority. She doubted he’d be allowed the same privilege again.

Yet even if things went smoothly, by the time things were settled there they would be nearing winter. As it was she’d be gone at least a year. She bit her lip.

Kili for his part was fighting a battle within himself not to demand her to stay, or better yet, to tell her that if she did leave that they would follow her. And while they would, there was no reason in causing her to worry about that yet. No, he had another task in mind. He sighed heavily and let his head drop forward.

“Kili?” He was happy that his hair in that moment hide his small smile. His sister, one day by marriage if he had his say in things, had such a caring heart. She laid a hand on his back as she shifted closer. “Are you alright?”

Rubbing a hand over his face he just sighed again. “I’m just worried about Fili.”

“Fili?” Her eyes widened.

The prince nodded gravely. “He’s been working himself too hard. He’s not even king yet he’s up all night doing one thing or another. He’s been skipping meals.” Kili scowled in order to fight off his smile when Marabell looked outraged at the thought. “I’ve talked to Uncle and he’s agreed to give me a few of Fili’s duties for a while.” He shook his head. “I’m just not sure it’s enough. Can you believe that the first thing he did with his free time was find more work to do?”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“He’s down working the forges this morning and I noticed that he barely even touched his plate again. I’m worried, Bell. He hasn’t been sleeping and he’s not eating like he should.”

He wanted to be upset with himself more than he was at her concerned and worried expression. She sucked on her bottom lip as she fussed over various thoughts all surrounding his brother which made him want to smile.

If Fili was finally going to set his heart towards his One, Kili was going to do everything in his power to help. Even if the help wasn’t asked for, nor easy. Their biggest issue at the moment was that Bell thought of both of them as her brothers. More specifically, she thought of Fili as her brother. Which was a huge problem when you wanted to court someone. They needed to get Bell to see him as a possible love interests and not so much as family. But first Kili needed to find out if there was even a chance for their whole plan to work.

Things would end very quickly for Fili if it turned out Marabell wasn’t the least bit interested in him in a romantic sense and Fili would not push her to consider him otherwise. That was where Kili came in.

He gave her a pleading look. “I’ve tried to talk to him. Maybe you can help?” She’s quick to agree like he knew she would be. He rewarded her with what he hoped was a thankful smile. “Fee just thinks I’m being fussy but he really does need to slow down a bit.”

* * *

That afternoon held open court. Marabell hadn’t planned on attending at first but found herself outside the doors anyways. She blamed it on Kili. His concerns for his brother had brought her to the only place Fili would be at that moment.

The first session was about to start. The armoured dwarves at the bottom of the dais barely moved as she approached. Her father was the first to see her. Fili’s back had been towards her as he faced the throne. It was only the pair of them by the grand stone seat. Normally Dwalin would be standing by Thorin’s side. The guard was likely elsewhere.

“Marabell, I don’t think it’s wise-” Thorin looked almost apprehensive as she approuched. Though under the scrutiny of so many he was doing his best to hide it. At his side Fili had an unhappy frown in place.

“But…” Her steps hesitated. While she had only sat in on a few, Thorin had always insisted she was welcome. It was important for their people to see her and it was a good way for her to learn and understand their jobs as rulers. Not that she wanted to rule. Mostly she used the time to be close to her father. Thorin and her had had little time together and even if they couldn’t speak to each other during the sessions, it was enough of a comfort to be near.

Fili must have been able to read her thoughts easily through the hurt expression in her eyes. “Mara, it’s not like that.” He pursed his lips for a moment. “Thorin, I think she should stay.” When it looked like his king was still about to turn her away the golden prince quickly cut in. “It’s important for her to understand and it’s a part of who we are. Let her stay.”

Thorin looked anything but happy. Well he understood Fili’s point of view, it was hard for Thorin to think around his need to keep his daughter safe from harm and far away from any of the evils of the world. Including those within of their kin.

Allowed to stay with them, Fili took her arm and moved them to stand by Thorin’s right, with Fili closest to the king as right as heir. The place to Thorin’s left looked oddly bare without Dwalin’s large presence filling the space.

There was a general murmur to the crowd at they waited. Marabell felt her cheeks heat under their gazes as they always did. She wasn’t sure if she would ever be able to get used to so many people staring. She fought to keep her hands from fidgeting. Fili had yet to release his hold on her arm and gave it a little squeeze. She sent him a thankful smile as the doors opened and the crowd went silent.

Across the room Bombur and Bofur waited amongst the crowd. The miner shifts where he stood. He was already on edge from what he knows is about the come. Yet seeing Bell up there eased his heart, even with the prince’s hardened glare in his direction when their eyes had met.

Yet it was truly this moment where Bofur could see the difference between himself and his Bell. There is a sea of noble dwarves between them. Him and his brother, despite their own hard fought titles, are still watching from the back. Bell stood heads above the crowd as the princess she is. Her robes were regal, her spine straight and proud. Blue eyes shining. She is the image of her father. Thorin stood in his own royal grab, a mix of armour and embroidered fabrics with his crown atop his head.

Though she was on Fili’s arm, Bofur still couldn't believe his heart as it flutters. He was still waiting for her answer and feared she'd take her time before she gave it. Yet he knew he'd will never push her to answer. He couldn't. He knew that if he did and she later changed her mind it would destroy him. So he was fit to wait and fight for her if need be.

And if he also had to prove to not only Thorin, but Fili as well, that he was worthy enough to hold her heart then so be it.

Dwalin entered with his head high and face cold. In his hand he carried his warhammer. Behind him two guards were escorting another dwarf forward. At their back walked another guardsmen in royal armaments and twin axes in hand.

As the reached the base of the dias, Dwalin stepped forward while the others stopped. He didn’t take his place at Thorin’s side. Instead the warrior placed himself between the prisoner and his king. The arresting guards forced the prisoner to the floor with a kick to the back of his knees, though they did not force him to bend his head to his king. The dwarf instead glare with heavy venom, eyes fixed on Thorin as if he could kill him with his gaze alone. Yet, even so there seemed to be some note of fear in the way he held himself.

Her father stepped forward, sweeping passed Marabell and Fili and addressed the court. _“Who do you bring before my judgement?”_ His tone sent a chill down her spine. She had rarely heard her father speak in his native tongue. Whether from years spent outside the mountain or for her benefit he had always spoken Westron. Even most of the courts were held in the same. She was thankful for her lessons, though she was no where near fluent yet.

Dwalin gave his king a quick, respective bow. _“Hardge, son of Morn, your majesty.”_

Thorin gives no hint of knowing the name. He only icily stared at the kneeling dwarf. _“His crimes?”_

 _“Theft,”_ Dwalin stated. _“Records have been discovered that Hardge has been --- gems from the mines for years. We don’t have a total --- --- found several small --- -- jewels when we --- - --- -- his apartment.”_ Marabell frowned at the scattering of unfamiliar words. Unlike with past instances Fili was not translating it softly in her ear for her to follow.

Thorin let a pause of weighted silence fall across the room before he spoke. _“Theft from the mountain, is a theft from every dwarrow within her caverns. It is a crime we do not --- ---. Although it is not reason enough for you to be brought before me for judgement.”_ At this the king turned his eye to Dwalin.

The warrior nodded. _“Aye, he has not been brought here for that.”_

Thorin returned his gaze to the kneeling dwarf. _“The charge?”_

The single word spoken by the guard sent a shocked ripple through the crowd peppered with sharp curses and shouts. Marabell glanced to Fili. The prince met her eyes gravely, his lips pressed in a thin line yet did not translate it. She also noticed that he wasn’t surprised by what had been said and it came to her that they had likely known. What was happening right now was a show for the court and they hadn’t wanted her to witness it. She didn’t understand why. Before she could ask what Dwalin had said the prisoner cried out.

 _“Lies!”_ He spit as he attempted to stand but was only knocked back down again. _“I didn’t --- --- have anything --- --- -- --- death!”_ Some of the words were too muddled for her to understand and she strained to listen.

Thorin looked down on him coolly. _“Captain?”_ he prompted.

Dwalin crossed his arms. _“When -- entered his apartment to search --- --- jewels --- -- found -- body -- Fandis, daughter of Boru.”_ Another wave of outrage from the court. A loud wail ripped through the cavern as a scuffle broke out near the back of the room. _“She had been left within - --- room.”_

Someone was pushing their way through the crowd. “No!” Guards caught the approaching dwarf before he could come any closer. Copper haired and simple braids. He was covered with road dirt, his pack still on his back. He was speaking far too quickly for Marabell to understand other than the fact that the dead dwarrowdam had been his sister.

At a gesture from Thorin the guards holding the dwarf released him to stand on his own. With wide disbelieving eyes he stepped forward to the dias, keeping a wide distance from the prisoner. Marabell missed most of the next exchange. She had been too busy watching the play of emotions across the copper dwarf’s face. He paled, looking near sick, his hands moving as he spoke. Soon his expression shifted to outrage and anger before he had to be held back when he moved to jump the kneeling prisoner.

Fili tightened his hold on her arm as her father’s voice boomed over the court with his sentence. What happened than would stay with her for some nights.

A thick set dwarf approached the dais with a bucket of snow, already half melted and dripping. In his other hand was a sealed jar. The prisoner was kicking and screaming as he fought back against the guards but they held him firmly. Dwalin’s heavy steps as he drew a knife from his belt. It was a curved, wicked looking thing. No more was said, though the prisoner shouted as Dwalin caught hold of one of his braids to cut it off at the root.

He was being shaved. Marabell watched with an open mouth stare as braid by braid each was removed till Dwalin started to grab fist fulls of hair. The prisoner was sobbing now, his voice broken and cracked sounding. The crowd watched in silence.

When it was over Dwalin stepped back. The prison hung from the hands of the guards. Lines of blood trickled down his bald head and down his chin where the blade had cut too close. The copper haired dwarf whose sister had been killed came forward and carefully collected all the trimmed hair. He moved slowly, careful not to miss any. Than, with a surprising sense of calmness, approached one of the brazier near the bottom of the dais and tossed in the hair. Right down to the last braid. Marabell grimaced at the smell.

Than came the shreking. Fili’s arm moved around her back when she flitched and turned from the sight. They were smearing something black along the dwarf’s chin, jaw and head. Wherever any hair had been cut. When they were finished the prisoner was near breathless from his continued cries. Dwalin’s heavy hand came down to shoved the dwarf’s blacked head into the icy water, holding him there till his struggles lessoned and Marabell feared he’d been drowned.

The dwarf was listless as the was dragged away and Marabell too shocked by what she had witnessed to notice that Fili was guiding her from the room at first. He walked her into a smaller council chamber and closed the door behind them to shut out the sounds of the crowd. His blue eyes simply watched as she paced the room as her stomached rolled. “What was that?” She could still hear the cries ringing in her ears when she was pulled against a firm chest.

Fili held her, rubbing her back till she pulled back enough to see his face. “How much did you understand?” he asked. Of course he’d understood that she hadn’t been able to understand all of it. While she was a quick learner when it came to languages like her mother had been, she was still some years off from being completely fluent in it.

“He killed that dwarf’s sister?” Fili nodded. “So he was shaved?”

“Yes. He was charged a murderer. Worse though, as he killed a female. I don’t think there is an equivalent term in Westron for the word we use. I guess you might called him a female slayer.”

Her brow furrowed. “So the crime was worse because it was against a dwarrowdam?”

“Of course. We have few enough females as it is. Though no one had come out and said it, we’re dying as a race.” Fili crossed his arms, his expression tight. “I know uncle and the others know this. After all we have been through, Smaug, the Battle of Azanulbizar and the Battle of the Five Armies, not to mention the numbers we lost while homeless. There just aren’t enough of us left to rebuild what was lost. Which is why every female, and every child, is so sacred- More so now than ever before.”

Fili’s eyes unfocused with thought. His tone turned wistful. “I had only ever seen a small handful of dwarflings growing up. More since we’ve regained the mountain and returned our people home.” His expression darkened. “For him to take the life of a young dwarrow simply because she refused him? He had no right to do that to her, or to our people.”

“I didn’t know it was so bad,” she admitted. “I… You’re right, of course. Till Banil was born I think I’ve only seen one other babe. If it weren’t for the hobbits I might have notice the lack of children running about sooner.”

He pushed himself away from the wall. “Hearing Bilba talk of the Shire… it always sounded like some dream land. Where no one goes hungry and children play in the streets by the dozens. My brother and I used to talk about going there once Erebor was retaken. We wanted to see this magical land for ourselves.”

“But you’ve been there before,” she pointed out.

He gave her a half smile. “At night. We saw little more of it than a few farm fields, a very angry bull and some hedges. Uncle had us all up and out of Bag End before the sun was even up.”

Silence grew between them as Marabell’s thoughts turned. It was on the tip of her tongue to asked Fili to come with her when she left in the spring. The thoughts caused a nervous flutter in the stomach and reminded her that he was a prince. He couldn’t just up and leave to travel halfway across Middle-earth. So instead she changed the subject back to where it had started. “So what’s going to happen now?”

It took Fili a second to understand what she was asking. “He will be exiled. As far as our people are concerned he is no longer a dwarf and will be welcome into no kingdom.”

“What was that black stuff?”

Fili grimaced. “Linch mud. I’m not sure what is used to make it, but when you rub it into your skin it burns like dragon fire and prevents hair from growing.” He shivered as any dwarf would at the thought. When he opened his eyes he found Marabell standing at his side. “Killing him would have been a mersey. Now he will be left to wander in exile”

She thought on that. “You had wanted me to stay though Da was against it.”

Fili let himself bring a hand up to cup her cheek, pulling her close enough to press a kiss to her forehead. He tried not to let his lips linger and pulled back. “Though I understand his desire to protect you, you need to know these things. Hiding you from them won't keep you safe.”

“Are you saying that it could have been me?”

The very thought made Fili sick. Honestly he wasn’t sure what he would have done had it been her. Killing the dwarf would be a mercy, yet exile wouldn’t have been enough to quell the burning fire that would grow behind his breast at her loss. The thought of finding her so forgotten, pale and cold behind a locked door…

His distress must have shown because she was quick to wrap him in her arms. “I understand. Don’t worry. I’ll be careful, I promise.”

* * *

Kili couldn’t sleep.

He had over strained himself during practice that morning. He shouldn’t have pushed himself too hard. Now he’d be paying for it for the next few days. But it’s hard not to show off a little around Bell. They hadn’t spent nearly enough time around each other. They had so much catching up to do.

And yet…

He turned his attention to his desk. Until recently it had been lost under a pile of, well everything. Now it sat nearly stacked with books, papers and a half burnt candle. Balin had been good on his word to funnel off his brother’s duties to him over the last week. Really Kili should have done this years ago instead of allowing his older brother to grow bent under all the stress of being the heir. While it was important for Fili to learn everything involved with being a king. He still had this horrible habit of shielding his baby brother from the world.

Kili understood. After all these years together Kili understood that his brother just wanted Kili… to be Kili. Fili was as worried about Erebor changing his little brother as Kili was about it himself.

However, Erebor had already changed Fili. It had taken his smiles as it had his time. Kili had fought tooth and nail to keep his own. He reasoned that if his brother didn’t have time to enjoy himself, then he would in Fili’s place.

Yet Marabell made him realize something. What was happening to them now, it was about growing up. Something Kili was in need of doing.

He also realized it wasn’t about losing the fun. It was about supporting his people, his brother and his king. Erebor needed their princes. It would one day come to Kili to stand at his brother’s side in council. How was he to support him when he spent his whole life hiding from his duties? What if something like Smaug were to happen again? Kili was not fool enough to believe he’d have the strength as Thorin once did to lead their people. As a Durin their people would follow him, whether he knew what that meant or not.

Most importantly he was his brother’s shield. Fili had always been the blade. They were a pair and Kili would be no use to him if he continued to shirked all his responsibilities.

His leg twinged horribly, making him cringe. There was no way he’d be able to sit at his desk. Not until he had at least took the time to work out the stitch. If he did a quick lap to the Dimond district and back it should settle down enough for him to put in a few hours of work before bed. He wondered ideally if Fili was still awake. He’d likely see the flicker of candlelight coming out from under his door if he were.

Kili’s keen hears picked up the soft fall of feet coming out the hallway on the other side of his door. He frowned. He’d have thought it his uncle at first, but the steps were far too light. His mother maybe?

With a shrug he opened the door and saw an unknown dwarf standing before Bell’s door.

 


	27. Chapter 27

The figure froze with their hand posed against the already half-cracked door to Marabell’s room. It was dark inside. Bell and Sam would have already gone to bed and the fires burnt low for the evening. The figure was wrapped tightly in a dark cloak, pulled even tighter about their face. The helts of two blades lay across their back. Another pair of handles on their hips and more up the side of their left legs. And those were only the blades he could see. He had no doubt there were more he couldn’t.

Kili had a moment to think that this dwarf was more armed than his brother usually was before they lunged towards him with naked steel. It was only by a hair’s width and Kili’s quick reflexes that kept the blade from his opening his neck right there and then in his bedroom doorway. A fine end for one of Erebor’s princes that would have been.

Whomever they are, they were good. Fast, quick and light on their feet. It was all Kili could do to move away from their attacks. He hasn’t even drawn his own sword yet. Everytime he made to draw their attacks shifted, making it impossible for Kili to pull his sword without losing a hand or something equally vital.  

The hall is narrow. Grand enough to walk along but poor for fighting in. He had drawn them back from Bell’s door and passed his own but knew his luck would run out shortly. He needs an opening, and soon. Without his sword it was all he can do to dance back from their attacks and his attacker was growing impatient, but not sloppy.

They were good in a manner which had Kili both impressed and terrified.

It was his leg which betrayed Kili first, dropping out from under him and sending him awkwardly to the ground to land hard on his hip. He must have shouting in the fall because doors were slamming open along the hall. He should have thought of that earlier. The assassin turned, throwing a blade blindly towards one of the doorways. Fili’s pained cry is enough for Kili to know that the blade had managed to find a mark. It’s all he can do to hope his brother will be alright as he’s turning to reach for his blade now pinned beneath him.

Kili knew his leg right then would be more of a hinder than a help and was unlikely to support his weight if he tried to stand. The muscle was twisted and refused to move from the strain. But he wasn’t going to lay about being uselessly either. With the attack’s attention divided Kili gave up going for his sword in favor of lunging forward. He wrapped his arms about their legs, bringing them crashing to the floor. He got a boot to the face for his effect and nearly lost an ear to the swing of their blade as the quickly roll out of reach.

The assassin isn’t quite to their feet yet when Thorin appears overhead sword poised to strike. Kili has a moment to see his mother pushing Bell and the hobbit, Sam, back into their room. Fili is not far behind his uncle with twin blades in hand looking thoroughly pissed, his hair half wild and undone. There is a wash of red down his left arm soaking quickly through his nightshirt but he hardly seemed to care.

There was a moment when the attacker’s eyes widened when the notice just who is standing over them. They were outnumbers and there appeared to be little chance of escape. The king would be on them before they were able to get back to their feet and they’d still have to get around Kili sprawled out on the floor.

Thorin’s eyes are dark. He’s still dressed from the day. Kili can see the shine of mail beneath the edges of his tunic and knows his uncle still sleeps in his armor. Orcrist seems to glow. The elven blade is pressed to the attacker’s throat so hard Kili wonders if Thorin plans to take their head right there and then.

A dagger is in the assassin’s hand so quickly Kili didn’t even see them drew it. There’s a flash of horror knowing that he’s too out of reach to stop the black blade. Thorin is so fixed on their shadowed face that he hasn’t even noticed it’s moving. All Kili can do is shout a warning as the assassin buries his dagger in Thorin’s thigh.

The surprise attack was enough to cause Thorin’s sword to waver and the assassin took that moment to roll back from the blade and to their feet as the king stumbled. Kili’s too shocked to do much more than numbly watch their fleeing back as they escaped down the hall. It’s Fili who rushes to their uncle’s side but Thorin pushed him away. The blond prince instead takes off running after the attacker. With a curse Thorin pulled the knife from his leg and tossed it to the side. The wound is deep, but the blood flows sluggishly having not hit anything vital.

“Are you alright?” His eyes are icy blue and angry as stormclouds. Thorin isn’t foolish enough to go running after the attacker. If Fili doesn’t catch them he’ll alert the missing guard. Going so far as to fetch Dwalin if his captain wasn’t already on his way. He spared a moment to wonder after their missing guardsmen before returning his attention to his nephew.

Kili had managed to get himself against the wall. He was angry at himself for being so useless. The king stood bleeding and there he sat on his arse like a fool. Worse was he knew it to be his fault. For years he had been acting as if nothing was wrong, all the while his leg worsened. He trained - yet never as hard as he should have. He made his appearances as prince - yet only as needed. He went on patrols and killed orcs - never alone and relying on his guards more than he should. Now he sat, unable to even stand on his own. No, he knew what he needed to do.

A soft cry and the dash of feet pulled the dark prince from his thoughts. His sister’s worried face came before him. She fussed and he grinned. His sister, his queen, his brother’s One. He had hid from his own mind long enough. It was time he faced it. Time he faced her again and move passed the pain he had inflicted on himself as punishment for failing her.

Marabell helped him to his feet, though Kili placed a hand against the wall. Dis hovered around her brother, trying to get him into his chambers to sit down a moment so she could bind his leg before he bled out in the hall.

They ended up in Thorin’s sitting room. Kili sat in the armchair pulled close to a low table with his leg straight out before him. It was still locked up and would take some time before the muscles loosened again. Thorin had allowed his sister to bind his stab wound but had refused anymore treatment till Oin arrived claiming he was fine. Kili was not surprised when his mother took issue with his answer.

Sam’s golden curls were a mess from sleep. The small hobbit knelt in a robe far too big for her as she worked the kettle by the fire making tea. There were an array of mismatched cups around Kili’s propped foot which the hobbit had brought from Bell’s suite. Apparently not all the cups made it back to the kitchens when the servants came to collect the dishes. Kili wondered if Bell had nicked them on purpose so she wouldn’t have to call down for a simple cup of tea. It was something her mother would have done.

Marabell had her black waved weaved back into a loose braid which hung low down her back. She was wrapped in the grey fur trimmed cloak her father had given her which did little to hide her thin bedclothes if she didn’t bother to hold it close herself. In her worry she didn’t seem to notice. She was pressed against Thorin’s side as her father murmured into her hair and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Bell was clearly shaken by the events. If Kili hadn’t taken that moment to step outside it was hard to say what might have happened, though the prince was sure it wouldn’t have been pleasant.  

Fili returned in a rage flaked by Dwalin, Nori and a host of guards. Bell is moving the moment the prince returned. Her face paled at the sight of the blood down his left side and arm. “Fili!”

His hand raised to cup her cheek as he presses his forehead to hers. “Are you alright?” he breathed and felt her nod.

“You’re hurt,” She pulled back to fuss over his arm and he let her guide him to the empty seat beside his brother. Kili threw him a knowing smirk but Fili is still far too upset over what nearly happened to return it.

Nori’s eyes took a quick sweep of the room as he entered. “Oin is on his way.”

Thorin grunted at that. When the old healer hadn’t entered with them he had figured as much anyways. “Well?” He had little patience left for the day. It had already been long and full of meetings. While he appreciated Marabell for her concern, he had happy her attention had shifted towards the boys. He already had Dis hovering by his shoulder, he didn’t need anyone else buzzing around him.

“I found four of the missing guardsmen and one unlucky servant in one of the unused suites in the Copper Halls. We still haven’t been able to account for the other eight guards.”

Dwalin looked thunderous. “How does one assassin remove an entire regiment of guards without any alarm being raised?”

Thorin’s glare was cutting. “These are your men, you tell me?”

Dwalin didn’t look the least bit cowed. He crossed his arms and returned the look. “Aye, they were mine. None of which would betray the crown.”  

Nori cut in between the pair. “It’s entirely possible there was no help from within. Fili is quick and even he lost sight of the attacker. They know they’re way around. My guess is they even know some of Erebor’s more hidden pathways.”

“Do you think these attacks are related?” Thorin asked.

“No,” Nori answered quickly. “The first was ill planned and amateurish at best. This was well thought out and funded. It would have taken time to arrange.”

Dis looked more than a little unhappy. “We were all lucky Kili was up.” There was a silent nod of agreement around the room. “Why Marabell though?”

Dwalin huffed. “Why not her? She’s untrained and the weakest of you lot. Not to mention she’s already been targeted by the orcs. What would you have done if they had managed to kill her?”

Dis cut in before Thorin was able to reply. “He’d have gone after them. Which is what they’d want.”

The warrior nodded as the spy turned thoughtful. “She’s the bait. Bolg wants you dead, but he wants to do it himself. Which means he needs you out of the mountain. He has no chance in making it inside himself. He needs you to come to him. If he can capture her, or kill her you’d be forced after him.”

“All this for petty revenge!” Dis snapped, throwing her hands up. “Should have killed that filth when you had the chance.” With that said she stomped over to the children now drinking tea by the fire. Sam had several more cups for Thorin and company but had been too nervous to approach. They now sat cooling on the table.   

“She’s right.” Dwalin was frowning fiercely. “We should have rounded them up all and slaughtered them before they got back to their stinking holes.”

Nori looked none happier. “While I, and every other dwarf, would agree with the sentiment we are far passed that time.”

Thorin looked grim. “You’re right. We’re going to have to bring the fight to them on our terms.” The pair nodded though the thought of war so soon after their recovery of Erebor sat ill with the pair. “But it’s late. We’ll deal with it in the morning.”

“Uncle?” Fili met his eyes with a hard look of resolve. Thorin knew the look well enough.

“Marabell,” His daughter jumped slightly at Fili’s side when he called her name. “I don’t want you sleeping alone. You’ll stay with me.” She looked ready to protest but he was already turning to address Nori. “Nori, I’d like it if you could take watch of Samantha. Your brother has already been appointed her guardian and I’m sure Ori wouldn’t mind the extra company.”

“Uncle we could watch Bell if you’d like,” Kili offered.

Thorin simply frowned at the suggestion. “No. For now I want the two of you sharing a room.”

“And me, brother?” Dis looked at him expectantly but he knew better than to try and order his sister about. She’d sleep where she wanted.

* * *

She stopped, her hands tightening about the books clutched tightly against her chest. She knew her knuckles would be white beneath her knitted mittens and all she wanted to do was run. But she was determined to be stronger than that. She wasn’t going to hide from him.

Ori’s fingers itched to touch the coil of hair she now kept tucked beneath her clothing. She knew she should have left it hidden someplace within her room instead of carrying it. It did her no good to bring it, yet she couldn’t put it down.

Her heart cried and she did her best to stifle it, though it hurt to do so. The knowledge that the pain would lessen with time helped. Yet being so close to him now, after everything, was a torturous ache she had a hard time fighting. She wanted to go to him. Beg, plead and cry against him. But she had made her choice and no matter what she knew she’d never regret it. She felt better for knowing where his true feelings laid instead of remaining locked within her hopeful dream.

Her One was dead as far as her heart was concerned and she’d carry the last remaining piece of him with her till the end of her days.

Dwalin’s posture stiffened and Ori forced herself to move on even as he turned to look up towards the higher walkway. Balin would be waiting for her reports and she had other duties to attend to. The attack the night before had shaken the mountain. Her brother had worked hard to stifle the rumors but there was no use. Come morning nearly everyone knew what had happened and the place was brimming with barely concealed panic.

It might not have been so bad had the attacker been caught. They did at least manage to find the missing guards. They had apparently been drugged and locked within a servant entry. Not all at once, mind. But in pairs and small groups. None could remember how or where, their memories were foggy at best. Oin figured they would likely return with time.

For now Ori was happy to have Sam’s company. She had found the hobbit to be a bright spot when she grew passed her shyness. A fierce little defender too. Ori felt the lass would have made a good dwarf, loyal to a fault as she was. Frodo had shown up with the others in a fuss that morning. Seems the lads had heard what had happened and had wanted to make sure she was alright.

Ori pulled herself from her musing as she hurried on. Balin had asked her to be quick about finding the maps they needed of Mount Gundabad region and the northern reaches of the Misty Mountains. She didn’t have time to concern herself with further wishful thoughts.

* * *

“What do you think all these are for?”

“Reading, Pippin. That’s what you do with books. You read them.”

“Aye, I know that, Merry. But why are there so many of them? They can’t have that many stories.” His eyes widened to round disks as he shot his friend a quick, excited grin. “You don’t think they do have that many stories then?” he asked in hopeful disbelief. The hobbit craned his neck back to stare up at the monstrously tall inlaid bookcase in the kingdom’s grand library. It was the largest of the shelves running up the entire height of the carvern’s support pillar.

Thorin was more than a bit surprised to find the pair hiding about the library of all places. They usually spent most of their days around Bofur and his toy shop and had become quite the regular occurrence in the market place. So their presence was a bit of a surprise. He kept back intent on watching the pair a moment longer before making himself known.

Merry turned to his friend sweeping a hand out to gestures to pretty much every book around them. “I can’t imagine these are all full, Pip. Some must be blank. You know, for show.”

“Oh, that makes since,” Pippin sounded a bit disappointed as he nodded sagely at the thought.

Thorin watched the hobbit Merry attempted to pull one of the larger tome down from its place. It was a thick, old thing which had the hobbit struggling to grasp and Thorin was unsurprised to see it slip from his weak hands. The book thumped hard to the floor, nearly landed on Merry’s furry feet and causing Thorin to wince at the book’s poor treatment. The hobbit quickly dance out of its way lest he lose a toe as the book settled at its new place on the ground.

It had opened to a random yellowed page which had the pair looking down at it with nearly identical frowns. “How do you suppose you read that?” Merry bent to get a closer look at the neat rows of thick dark lines. “Where are the letters?”

“Maybe they have some with pictures?” Pippin asked hopefully turning to look back at the other tomes.

“Those are letter, master hobbit.” The pair jumped, colour rushing to dot their round cheeks as Thorin stepped forward finally.

The pair shuffled to stand together on the far side of the fallen book looking an odd mixture of guilt and excitement like they had been caught doing something they shouldn’t have yet were happy to see him. When he crossed his arms they flashed him near identical grins. “Your majesty,” Merry gave a bow. “We were just admiring your book collection.” He elbowed Pippin into a bow of his own.

“Oh, aye! And a grant many of them you have.”

Thorin chuckled as he bend to pick up the tome, wincing as the movement pulled the stitches in his thigh, and return it back to its place. “Don’t let Ori find you leaving her books about the floor. She’ll have your heads for it.” The pair did their best to look innocent and anywhere else but his presence.

As he turned to leave them to their explorations, Thorin found himself suddenly with a pair of hobbit-sized shadows. “Is there something you need?” Thorin drawled, trying not to sigh. He didn’t have the patience, nor the time, to entertain the pair at that moment. He was only here himself because Ori had enough to gather already for their meeting and it was quicker for him to get the book he needed himself. He knew exactly where he had left the records since he had been the last to read them and it had given him excuse not to be locked up in his office or his chambers. Both of which had been invaded. One by his council in the presence of Lord Gartak, the older noble’s even present frown firmly fixed in place in light of the attack, and the other his daughter and his delightful sister who had decided to take up residence there for the time being.

“No,” Pippin grinned. “Nothing we need.”

Merry smiled in a cheeky way which did not bode well in Thorin’s mind. “But maybe we can help _you_.”

He glanced back. “Do you have something in mind, master hobbits?” He paused long enough for their shorter legs to allow them to reach his side.

“The way we see it,” Merry crossed his arms with a serious expression. “If Bell is happy then that would be good for you as well.”

He neither agreed or denied the statement. Seeing his daughter’s smile did bring him a joy had hadn’t known for a long while now. He knew if it was in his power to make her smile than he would.

“What if we knew what,” the pair shared wide knowing smiles,” or should we say _who_ , makes her smile the most?”


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for everyone who will need to read back because of this super lengthy gap between the last chapter and this. For those who have read the previous notes know that a bit of writers funk and real life took over all my time. While I can't promise weekly updates. I assure you it wont be years.

News didn’t reach Bofur about the attack until well after he had opened the shop for the day. Even then it reached him in bits and pieces. There seemed to be a general stir within the market that morning that he hadn’t been able to place at first. Too many whispers and too many frightened gazes. It had made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and he found himself removing his hat in order to rub at them.

Still, it wasn’t until Bombur dropped by after lunch when Bofur finally heard what had happened the night before. 

He barely waited to hear his brother out before he was racing out the door. Leaving Bombur to close the store. Old Smaug's chambers were nowhere near the royal quarters and it took far longer than he liked to him to reach them. All the while his brother’s words continued to loop about in his head making him dizzy and his heart sick all at once. 

Bell had been attacked. In her own bedroom, Bombur had said. His heart thudded. 

He could hardly believe that there had been another attempt. That was two in less than a month. During both of which he had been nowhere near her. In fact, he had seen little of her since the last time she had been in his shop days ago now. He knew he wouldn't be able to wash the dread from his veins till he saw her whole before him again. 

There were more guards in the halls than he’d ever seen before. Still, they let him pass without question. Everyone knew the Company on sight and they wouldn’t question as to why he was running towards the royal suites.

Bofur stood frozen before Marabell’s open door. His breath coming hard. The room looked tossed like someone had been looking for something. The heavy chairs had been moved and pushed to block the back bedroom door. Had she been locked within along with her attacker? Had the others managed to get in just in time to save her? 

Then he heard her laugh and he whipped towards the closed door at the end of the hallway. 

* * *

 

“Kili, stop!” The dark prince took another stab at her side in a bid to make Bell giggle again. She danced back from his hand and out of reach. Kili was still chair bound for the most part and pouted at her when she slipped further back. 

“Come on, Bell. You’re being far too gloomy!” He slumped back in his chair, shifting his leg slightly. It was currently resting on a low table as his mother worked her hands down the knotted muscles of his calf. 

Dis pinched her son a bit harder than necessary making him yelp. “Leave her be and be still. Else I’ll simply call Oin up and he can do this for you.” Kili sullenly tucked his hands in his lap. He had learned very quickly that Oin’s idea of a ‘soft touch’ was enough to de-limb a troll. He’d rather be forced to limp for the next week than have the old healer work out the knots in his leg for him. 

The three of them jumped as the doors were suddenly thrown open. Dis was already drawing her skirt knife and Fili had suddenly appeared out from Thorin’s study where he had been going over reports with his blades drawn. 

“Bofur?” Marabell squeaked in surprise as she was suddenly enveloped in the miner’s tight embrace.

Dis quickly waved off the guards which had followed in behind the dwarf worried about trouble. Her dark brows jumped in shock at the sight before turning to her sons. Both of which wore matching looks of indignation and if anything she noticed Fili’s hold on his swords tighten to a near white knuckle grip. She stilled her golden son with a hard look when he moved to step forward.

“Bofur?” Bell pushed him back enough to see his face, though he didn’t let go. “What’s wrong? Has something happened? Is Banil alright?”

“I heard what happened,” he answered ignoring her questions. “I had to make sure you were alright.” His eyes searched hers before checking over the rest of her person. 

Bell’s lips turned down into a small frown. “Bofur, I’m fine. Really. There was no need to burst down the door.”

After sending his mother a challenging look, Fili walked up to the pair, making a show of sheathing his swords as he approached. Bell felt something twist inside at his empty expression and she turn worried eyes to her brother. “This couldn’t have waited till later?” he asked grimly. “Company, or not, you don’t just burst into the King’s chambers.”

Bofur let his hands dropped from Marabell’s arms as he took a step back putting some distance between himself and the princess. Kili looked none too pleased to see him either and it was only then that Bofur noticed Lady Dis. Her face gave away little but her icy eyes, so much like Bell’s and her brothers, watched him intently. 

Maybe he should have thought it through a bit more before bursting into the royal suites. 

“What’s this?” 

Bofur didn’t flinch, but it was a near thing. With a grimace, he pulled his hat from his head as he turned to the still open door. If he thought Lady Dis’ eyes had been cold, Thorin’s were white icy flames. 

“What are you doing here? I thought I warned you to leave her alone.” 

Bofur straightened at that, not expecting the king to jump right to his relationship with Bell. “Aye, and I said she’d do as she pleased.”

Thorin’s heavy step forward sounded like thunder in the silent room. “ _ She _ may do as she likes.” Another step. “But  _ you  _ were told to leave her alone. Yet I return to my guards saying that a member of my company just rushed into my personal chambers,” His hands closed into tight fists. “And into the arms of my daughter!” Thorin towered over the shorter dwarf and while Bofur fought hard not to cower, there was a reason Thorin was King and he had followed him across half of Middle-earth.

“What?!” Both dwarfs jumped and turned. “Fili let go,” Bell shook off Fili’s hold on her arm as she stalked up to her father. “You ordered him to not to talk to me?”

It was almost funny the way the king blinked before registering what he had just said and in front of whom. He at least had the dignity to look apologetic as he took a step back from his daughter and the ghost of his fiery Bilba before him. 

She poked a small finger into his chest. “How could you? You had no right!”

His brow furrowed. “I have every right!” He growled back.

“No! You can’t pull the ‘because I’m your father’ bit here-” She took a deep breath as her eyes began to fill. “I-I thought-” She just shook her head and rushed from the room. Their eyes followed her out.

“Shit,” Kili cursed, struggling to get up from his chair to follow.

“Bell!” Bofur called but an iron grip closed around his arm. The miner could only watch as Fili race from the room and after their fleeing dwobbit. The door closed solidly behind him.

Bofur jerked his arm back still intending to follow but Thorin only tightened his hold. It was sure to leave a bruise. Bofur met his king's glare with one of his own.

“Enough!” Dis’ voice caused the males to start. “Kili, back to your room. Thorin, couch, now. You need more rest, you’re getting pale. Bofur, chair. I think it’s time we had a talk.”

* * *

 

They did as they were told. Though it took the young prince a moment to get up and going. Kili closed the door as he limped off to his room using the wall to keep himself upright. He didn’t envy Bofur but this did throw a hammer in the forge for his plans to get his brother and Bell together. He knew the miner had a thing for his sister, but if she returned his feelings... 

He could hear voices inside of Fili’s room as he passed and prayed to all the gods that he didn’t do anything to make things worse. They couldn’t afford to have her angry at them too and it would only hinder getting the two of them together. 

He knew his brother would never do anything to hurt Bell. Even if that meant sitting back while she wed another. Kili however, well, he would do everything in his power to make sure both his brother and sister were happy.

Kili thought about knocking for a moment to check in and make sure Bell had calmed down, but when the voices went silent he thought better of it and continued on towards his room. 

Back in Thorin’s chambers, Dis sat between the two glaring males trying not to sigh. “Bofur, am I correct to assume you wish to court my niece?” She cut right to the point.

He had righted his hat when he had sat down in Kili’s chair. Now he fought not to fidget with it again. “Aye,” he nodded gathering his courage as he finally took his eyes from the king. “I would like to court her proper.”

Dis held a hand up to still her brother from speaking when he looked ready to jump from his chair and strangle to the hatted dwarf. “Is she aware of your feelings towards her?” she asked once her brother had sat back down. 

Again Bofur nodded and Thorin turned redder in the face. This would explain her offhanded comment the other day during breakfast, thought Dis. She turned to her brother. “Thorin, go.”

He directed his glare towards his sister. “No,” was all he said. 

This time she did sigh. “Thorin, in this I sit in as Marabell’s mother would have. Your anger will not help here. I know you are against the match but I will hear Bofur’s request out first.”

Thorin growled but relented and stalked into his office slamming the door hard enough to rattle a nearby side table. An elaborate wooden carving wobbled before tipping onto its side.

“Now,” Dis smoothed down her skirts as she turned back to Bofur. “How long has this been going on?” She knew her brother would be listening at the door, but at least this way she would be able to talk freely without having to tie him to his chair every time Bofur spoke.

The miner’s eyes moved to the closed door before turning back towards the elder princess. “Before Durin’s Day.” He licked his lips. “I asked but she hasn’t given me an answer yet.”

Her eyebrows rose. So he had asked before she had gotten herself caught in another courtship. “You hadn’t given her a courtship gift yet?”

He shook his head. “No, I mean, I wanted to ask first because I figured she had no idea how those things were supposed to go. I know Bilba had no clue…” He swallowed. 

Dis frowned at that, opening her mouth to speak only for there to be a knock at the door. After sharing a look with Bofur she called out, “Enter.”

Bombur stood behind the door. Red faced and panting from the trek across the mountain. Bofur still managed a crooked smile at his brother’s disappointed look. “Honestly, Bo.”

* * *

 

“I thought if I let things be, you might come to me. But I should have known you better, brother.” Balin looked up from his pipe by the fire. 

Dwalin was surprised to see him there. Not that his brother wasn’t allowed to sit by the fire in their shared apartments. It was just that he usually he kept himself locked up in his office till he was ready to pass out on top of his papers. It was rare that he sought him out for matters not directly related to the kingdom.

But he could see his brother wanted to talk, he had a good idea about what and knew he was not going to be able to avoid him till he said his piece so he sat down in the chair across from his own. 

Balin gestured at his shortened beard. “You want to tell me what happened?”

Dwalin just gave him a look that said he didn’t.

Balin set his pipe down and folded his hands. “Look, brother. I know it had everything to do with our young Ori. I sent her to you before the Provings and then this happened.” Again he pointed at the warrior's missing beard. “It’s not a look I ever thought to see on you, brother. So I know whatever happened between the two of you was likely the cause. Also, my scribe has been far from her normally cheerful self. So I ask again, what happened?”

“You sent her?” The accusation in the tone did not go unheard by Balin.

“Well of course, I sent her! I had thought for some years now that she might hold feelings for you. I caught her, on more than one occasion mind, watching you. When I found that drawing in the back of a report I’d asked for, I knew my suspicions were indeed correct.”

Balin expected anger. It was his brother’s normal response in situations such as this. So seeing his brother’s naked sorrow surprised him and had him out of his chair. He wrapped a hand around the back of his younger brother’s neck, leaning down to rest his forehead to his. “Oh, my dear brother.” 

“What do I do, brother? She’s too good for a dog like me. After how I… How could I ever face her?”

Balin pulled back, smacking him hard over the back of his tattooed head causing Dwalin to curse only to hit him again. “Deserve her or not! You will beg if she asks it of you. You will spend the rest of your days trying to be worthy of your One, Dwalin. You’re no fool and I will not allow you to hurt her anymore than you already have.”

Huffing Balin sat back down and picked up his pipe. He took a long pull. “You’re lucky her brothers haven’t caught wind of this or I wouldn’t be surprised to find you down some darkened hole with a dagger in your back.” His brother grunted. “As it is Nori has been too busy watching our young princess to be following after Ori.” 

The fire crackled as he smoked down his pipe. His warrior of a brother continue to sit, head bowed and looking lost. “Brother,” Balin’s soft call had Dwalin looking up. “I know you do not wish to tell me fully what happened. I can hazard a guess-” His brother grimace. “I thought as much. Had my One come with hair loose on the cusp of battle…” He lost himself in thought seeing a ghost of a smile long passed. “I know you would not have forced her, or any female for that matter. So either it was a disappointing-” Dwalin cut him off with a sharp glare. “So you were your untactful self then after the fact and turned her away?”

Dwalin rested his elbows on his knees and drop his head to his hands. He spoke to the floor. “Was too rough. Scared her. She fled.” The words came out mumbled but clear enough.

Balin sat back and stroked a hand down his long white beard. “Then you have made a mess of this. Though I don’t believe it to be unfixable.” 

* * *

 

They waited for Kili’s obvious steps to continue down the hallway. Fili looked up from the paper clutched in his hand. “Why are you giving me this. Shouldn’t you have gone to uncle?”

Nori shook his head. “Thorin is too brash when it comes to his daughter’s safety. I know you won’t be so careless.” 

Fili grit his teeth and knew the spy was right. The page had been found being passed from hand to hand within a tavern in one of the lower levels of Erebor. When Nori had seen the exchanged he had nicked it for himself curious as to its contents. It called for those of true dwarven blood to deny the tainted king’s half-breed daughter. Claimed she was a temptress and a thief. That she had only returned to steal the throne. Never mind the fact that, even by her accounts, Fili was still the heir. She might be the crown princess, but Mara had no desire to rule.

But they were calling the people to act and while it didn’t instruct any acts of violence it was heavily suggested that such things would be rewarded. 

Fili wanted to ball the paper and toss it into the fire, but instead, he placed it onto his desk before turning back to their master spy. “Do you know where it originated from?”

Nori shook his head. “It had passed too many hands before I got to it. I have my men keepin’ a watch for more. There may be others or it might have been only the one.”

“Do you think it’s related to the first attempt?” It had been so poorly planned that only an amateur would have set it up, however, Nori shook his head again.

“I don’t believe they are related. Might be tied to yesterday’s attack, though my gut tells me it's likely unrelated also.”

“So I could be a third party altogether.” Fili fought to keep his thoughts levelled. All the while he wanted to punch the nearest wall and go tearing through every dwarf who even dared to look at Mara with even an ounce less of respect than she deserved.

Nori gave the prince a moment to compose himself. “There is more. Whispers are claiming that her return will also bring back Durin’s madness, the gold sickness. They're saying that Thorin was fine till he was taken in by Bilba and that the moment she left, so too did the sickness. They’re saying they need to remove her quickly before yourself and Kili fall to it too.” 

“That’s ridiculous! Bilba had nothing to do with that.”

“Aye, try tellin’ that to them.” He nodded towards the paper. “Nothing you say will convince them otherwise and you’d be a fool to think it.”

Fili leaned back against the desk. “Then what can we do?” 

Nori gave him a sharp grin. It was all teeth and made Fili instantly wonder what he had gotten himself into.


	29. Chapter 29

When she had first left her father’s room she had planned to hole up in her bedroom for a while. However when she had seen the state of it, she had kept running. Dis had turned over most of the furniture in a bid to keep her safe within her bedroom. She was surprised no one had bothered to clean it up yet.

Even so, the next place she found herself at was the hidden door. Bell took a moment to study the mural over the doorway before leaning her shoulder into the heavy stone door. 

It wouldn’t open. 

She tried till frustrated tears covered her cheeks. Adding to her already brittle mood. Pressing her back to the door, she slid down to the floor and cried into her arms.

She knew the tears weren’t just over what her father said. They were also from the shock of the attack, her Da getting hurt and Kili nearly being killed. That someone else wanted her dead. Her heart could make no sense of it all.

The orcs wanted her to get to her father while someone else just wanted her gone because they thought she was a threat. She didn’t understand how. She didn’t want the throne, or jewels or gold. She had just wanted to meet her mother’s dwarves. Meet her father. Find her family.

She had found them too. Found them and more. 

Now she didn’t want to leave. She felt more at home in the mountain than she ever did in the Shire. The thought of being without her brothers, her aunt and even her father, not to mention the rest of the Company, hurt.

She knew she had to return to the Shire. She had to see the hobbits home and take care of the loose ends at Bag-end. Even so, it seemed so far away now and with the orcs lying in wait… She’d be lying if she said that she hadn’t thought about just forgetting it all and staying within Erebor.

But even that wasn’t truly safe. 

Once she had cried herself out she was surprised to be still alone. Resting her head back against the door she closed her eyes and just listened to the stone. It always felt alive to her, like it had a beating heart way down in its core. Maybe that was why she felt so had home here. Maybe she was just a bit more dwarf than hobbit after all.

She had been surprised and confused by Bofur’s appearance. That he had just rushed into her father’s room. Ball understood his concern but still, it hadn’t sat right with her. 

Was it because whatever it was between them was still so new? They had shared that kiss some weeks back, yes, and his confession… They hadn’t spent much time together since. Was he upset with her for making a mess of things on Durin’s Day? If someone hadn’t made sure to remind her nearly every day that she was stuck in some courtship she’d have honestly forgotten by now. Her father and Balin said they’d get her out of it but she couldn’t help but feel like things were moving too slowly. 

Also wasn’t Bofur breaking tradition by asking her? Wasn’t he supposed to give her a courtship gift as well? 

Her father hadn’t been happy, to say the least. She worried about what they were talking about now or had Bofur fled. Was it tradition to get the father’s approval before marriage? She knew in the Shire that was the way of things but everything seemed to be happening out of order.

She couldn’t even be upset with her father. He was her dad, he was supposed to be upset when suitors came calling. More so when they just barged into their rooms. 

Had he really warned him off? When had that been? She had a feeling it was before Durin’s Day at least. 

She bumped her head back against the door. Dwarves were confusing, she decided. She didn’t even want to start on the confusing mess of emotions her brothers liked to kick up. 

Kili had quickly become a close friend. She felt safe to tell him all her fears and knew he’d fight by her side. The only topic which made her insides squirm in an unusual way was when they talked about Fili. 

It shouldn’t have mattered. They were cousins. She called him brother and he called her sister. Why did it feel all wrong? It should have been the same as Kili but her feelings for the brothers was as different as the sun and moon they seemed to represent. Kili felt like the brother she had lost while Fili… He didn’t feel like a brother.

With a groan, she picked herself up. There was no use moping around a darkened hallway feeling all confused for herself. She’d hunt down Ori and chat with her a bit. Marabell had noticed her friend becoming a bit withdrawn and hoped maybe a visit would cheer her up.

* * *

“I don’t know about this,” Frodo looked warily between the other hobbits. “Are you sure we can’t tell Sam?”

They were bundled up tightly against the cold. Each wore a small pair of knitted mittens and scarfs Ori had made for them in varying colours. Dori had sown them jackets made of thick hide and furred cloaks which made them look like small fluffy bunnies as far as Frodo was concerned. But Sam had thought them cute and he didn’t much care for the cold.

Even so, their noses were red from the winter breeze as they stood up on the walls. They often came out here to feel the sun on their faces, despite the cold. They were hobbits after all and being inside the mountain too long left them sun-starved. 

“No. Sam’s a girl and she’ll ruin the surprise!” Pippin shared a nod with Merry. Sam also spent a lot of time with Bell and they didn’t want to risk it.

“Yeah. If you’d come by the store more you’d see it too,” Merry added as if to reassure Frodo. It really didn’t. 

Frodo blushed lightly, his already pinkened cheeks darkening. “I kind of thought she liked Fili…” Looking down, he wrung his hands together. Sam was far better at these kinds of things than he was. Why they couldn’t just ask her was beyond him, but the pair had a plan. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be dragged into it.

“What?!” Gasped Pippin as Merry cried, “He’s her brother!”

Frodo flushed harder. “I know he’s like her brother but I heard-”

Merry quickly covered Pippins mouth when he went to speak. “Shh! We shouldn’t tell people that we saw them! What if it gets Bo in trouble? She’s a princess!”

Frodo looked between the pair with a small frown. “Saw what?”

“Oh,” Pippin gave a bright smile. “Just them kissing!”

“Pippin!” Merry scolded, hitting him on the arm. 

“Ouch! What? It’s just Frodo. He’s not going to tell anyone,” he argued.

“You don’t know that! No offence, Frodo. But you spend a lot of time with the royal family and prince Fili already came by to tell him to stay away from her.” 

Pippin looked thoughtful for a moment. “Maybe Frodo is right and prince Fili does like her! He had came to warn another suitor away.”

Merry hit him again. “Focus, Pippin. It’s his job to chase away suitors. He’s her brother. This is about getting master Bofur and Bell together. Remember?” 

Eyes moving between the pair. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” Frodo cautioned again. 

“Oh, and I bet you have a better one?” Merry crossed his arms. Pippin looked over and quickly before copied his pose. They nodded in a united front. 

“I just don’t think we should get involved, is all.” Frodo tucked his hands deep into his pockets, turning to face where the sun should have been. A thick layer of clouds lay heavy around the mountain. Frodo missed the sun. More so he missed the Shire and its green hills. Merry and Pippin had been talking about hobbits moving to the hills outside Erebor but Frodo wasn’t so sure. It sounded nice and it would be lovely to stay close to Marabell. She was all the family he really had left. Sam said that she would like to stay longer too but she missed her parents and worried over her brothers and sisters.

Frodo wondered what would become of him when he returned to the Shire.

As if sensing his mood the others turned to watch the skies. “A storm is coming,” Pippin said as Merry nodded. They missed the mild winters of home. “Come on, let’s go see what Gimli is up to.”

Pippin perked up. “We should go to the kitchens! Should be supper soon.”

Frodo followed along behind the pair as they bickered, taking another look at the greying skies before the view was lost to stone.

* * *

Fili worked at the forges, heedless to the sparks landing on his sweat slick chest. He barely even noticed the slight stings, long since used to them and distracted as he was. He should be working on the unfinished project that was laying on his bench. Instead, it was working on a dagger.

But he should have been working on the courtship gift. 

Even so, the process of slamming his hammer onto the slowly forming metal was helping him to relieve some of his pent up frustrations. There was so much he wanted, yet more he needed to do. What good was being the prince to an entire kingdom when he was unable to actually  _ do  _ the truly wanted?

Nori wanted to endear Mara to their people. Not just the nobles, who had the most coin, but the small folk with the most to lose and often the loudest voices. Sharpest knives too, according to the spy. If the people were on your side, the nobles would have little choice but to follow. 

It seemed simple. 

It was anything but. 

Nori did have one piece of information which could prove helpful. Even if it was all happenstance and unrelated to Marabell being within the mountain. There were currently over twenty expecting dams. Should all go well for the mothers, spring would see the largest number of births since they have retaken the mountain. 

It was far from where their people needed to be to rebuild all their lost numbers, but it was growth. Over ten of those expecting had been confirmed since Marabell’s arrival. A staggering number within such a short time.

After babes the people wanted wealth. With Marabell’s ability to listen to the stone they might be able to locate a new vein the mine. The workers would be pleased for the materials. Many of the shafts they were working now were old ones from before Smaug. 

Last was to secure the line of Durin.

Fili’s hammer missed, striking the anvil. He cursed as he threw the hammer to the side before quenching the blade before stalking over to his bench.

He opened a simple wooden box to look at the small gem within. 

It wasn’t done. It was still rough with bits of bedrock still clinging to its surface but when he had happened by it while inspecting the mines some weeks back he  _ knew  _ that it would be perfect. He swore he could feel it the gem, the solidness of it. He knew it would hold well for what he had planned. 

He closed the lid on the emerald and wiped the sweat from his brow. 

The nobles wanted to see Mara married off to another Durin. Either himself, Kili, Dain or Dain’s son Thorin, though the lad was still young yet. Nori said the council was leaning towards Kili. Which would leave Fili as the heir to marry a pure blooded dam, and not some half-breed. 

Mahal, how he hated that term. 

While Mara’s unwitted courtship was still in place, there wasn’t much they could do about that last part. The rest however, Fili admitted would work to endearing her to the people and might help in the long run to protect her from those looking for a scapegoat for any of their kingdom’s problems. 

He just had to pray it worked.

* * *

Meetings with the council would never be something Thorin enjoyed. He had hated it when he was a prince. He hated it now that he was king. He was, as far as he was concerned, always going to hate these meetings.

And nearly all the dwarves in them. Stuffy nobles. 

As such he enjoyed holding the meetings as early as he could. Most days it was an hour yet to sunrise. While Thorin’s sleep had been better as of late, he still enjoyed watching the nobles enter blurry-eyed and slow. 

Fili sat calmly on his right, while Balin sat on his left. A small ways behind him Ori sat at a small writing desk to write down the day’s proceedings while Dwalin stood a bit off closer to the door. 

They were nearing the end of their meeting when Gruer cleared his throat. “I have heard word that there are some who are calling for Princess Marabell to be removed from Erebor.” He ran a hand down his twiny greying beard. Not a braid was out of place and he wore so much silver within his hair Thorin often wondered if he had a headache. 

Fili had suspected this would come up at some point. Many of the powerful dwarven families had their own spies for gathering information. It was up to the king to have the best spies in order to stay ahead of the vultures that were the old lines. Nori had shown him the page but people also talked. Those who had read it before the spy had been able to get his hands on it had obviously been overheard. 

“Why?” Was all Thorin asked, though from his angle Fili could see his uncles closed fists under the table. 

“They fear she will bring on the sickness, as her mother once did,” the dwarf answered back calmly. 

Surprisingly it was Gartak who laughed. “They believe a mere hobbit is able to bring on Durin curse?” He waved off the other counsellor. “We all know it’s in the blood. Since our late Thrór, all those in the direct line have been affected. It’s likely only the princess’s mixed heritage which has protected her from it herself.” 

It was not true, though Fili was hesitant to bring it up before the council. Both Kili and himself had also been touched by the gold sickness when they had first reclaimed the mountain. In fact, every dwarf within their company who had any claim to Durin’s line had been enthralled. 

When Thorin and Bain shared a silent look, Fili took that moment to speak. “I, for one, think it’s been a boon to Erebor to have so many hobbits within our halls.” When all eyes turned to him with various levels of interest he continued. “We were told that hobbits had the ability to spread life wherever they went. I was surprised to already see evidence of it.” 

While he knew from their looks his uncle and Balin wanted to know what he was up to, they weren’t about to contradict him during the meeting. Later they might skin him, but for now, they would let him play his game. 

“What do you mean?” asked Burlim, an old, heavy set dwarf closer to the other end of the table.

Fili looked to his uncle as if he was surprised the rest of the council hadn’t known already. “We have over twenty expecting dams in the mountain,” there was a sudden exclamation from the dwarves. Rarely were there ever more than half that expecting at one time. “Over half that since Mara’s arrival. By the end of the shut-in months, we’ll likely have a whole host of new dwarflings running underfoot.”

While the rest of the council murmured happily between themselves Balin, having caught on to the game, chimed in. “We shouldn’t be surprised really. I always thought Bilba was pulling my beard when she told me most of their females have no less than ten children a piece.”

“Ten?” squawked a noble Fili wasn’t able to see. 

Thorin brought it fist down onto the table to quiet the room. “Regardless of their reasons, I will not allow anyone to force my daughter from her home.” 

“If she plans on staying,” Gartak leaned forward. “Then we should see about tightening the line. Prince Kili remains unattached. Should they wed before the end of the shut-in many of our people will be put at ease.”

Fili fought to keep his face neutral as he ground his teeth. Even with Nori’s warning, the idea that they wanted to just marry her off to Kili like that… Even as he thought it, he knew he would have been eager to go along with the plans had they been pushing for himself to marry her instead.

Thorin hated himself for it, even as he raised his hand to stop all further comment. “My daughter will wed whomever she chooses. This is not up for discussion.” His hard stare down the table almost dared them to try. “Council adjourned.” 

Not ones to linger, the nobles were quick to leave and return to their rooms and their awaited breakfasts. Dwalin closed and locked the door behind the last of them, ensuring they had privacy to talk amongst themselves. 

Balin had stepped back to check with Ori before coming around to pat Fili on the back. “Well, lad, you’ve given them something to think on. That is for sure.” He said in ways of praise. 

“Is it true?” asked Thorin as he stood. He longed to return to his chambers, but the day had only just started.

The golden prince nodded. “I confirmed with the healing halls yesterday when it was brought to my attention.” 

Balin had a small look of wonder on his face. “Is it related to our Bell and small company?”

Fili shrugged. “No idea.”

Thorin let out a bark of laughter as he leaned against the table with a hand “If this works to get them off my case about her staying, I’m more than willing to tell them anything they wish to hear.”

“Aye,” Balin nodded. “Though it seems they wish for wedding bells nearly as much as the do little feet.” Thorin grimaced and Fili looked away. The old white haired dwarf just smiled, turning to his young scribe. “Is there anything left for us to address?” he asked her. 

“There are a few-”

“Uncle!” Fili leapt forward, catching the king as he collapsed to the floor beside his chair. 

Dwalin cursed, rushing forward to help the prince get the king back into the chair Ori had jumped to pull back, her papers scattered about the floor. Thorin’s face was pale white and eyes glassy. His skin hot and clammy beneath Balin’s hand. “Get Oin. Now!” Fili rushed from the room as if a dragon bore down on him.


	30. Chapter 30

It was the unusual commotion out in the hallway which had Marabell waking early that morning. Samantha gave a cute little yawn before rolling over while Frodo on her other side was curled into a tight ball. His mess of black hair falling over his face. It was getting long. She’d have to see about cutting it soon.

Though knowing the dwarves they would insist on braiding it instead. He’d likely like that.

The hobbits had moved back into her rooms the night before. While Frodo and Sam had climbed into bed with her, Merry and Pippin had taken over the long couch in the living room. The pair had informed her that they would keep her safe. Marabell didn’t have to heart to tell them that if someone got passed the three dozen guards in the hall they weren’t likely to be stopped by a pair of hobbits with wooden daggers.

Wrapping her heavy fur-trimmed dressing robe about her sleep dress she padded quietly towards the door. Her heart beat nervously as she hesitated at the handle. If someone was making another attempt, it would be a bad idea to open the door. However, there was a lot of shouting in Khuzdul and a distinct lack of metal on metal sounds which would have signaled fighting.

She took a breath and opened the door just as Dwalin, Balin, Ori, and Fili rushed passed with her father pale as death being carried on a stretcher by several other dwarves between them. Oin and Dis followed behind with equal looks of worry.

“What happened?” Hands clutched to her chest, Bell found herself frozen. Behind her, the hobbits were beginning to stir. Fili, having seen her at the door, broke off from his place next to Thorin and doubled back to her. “Fee?” His arm slid around her waist to pull her into his side.

Dis left Oin, taking Bell’s other hand. “It will be alright. Come alone.”

Staying fixed to Fili’s side she followed the pair down to the father’s room. Already the guards were filing back out. As they entered they could see Oin moving around the king’s bed as Dwalin and Balin watched from the doorway, although the warrior’s eyes were somewhere else. Ori was busy putting a kettle on in the hearth.

“Here, dear, why don’t you and Fili sit. Thorin doesn’t need all of us hovering about.” Dis gentle pressed Bell into one of the overstuffed sofas. Once they were seated and she was tucked firmly against Fili she again asked what happened.

The golden prince spoke low. “Uncle collapsed after our meeting. He appeared fine, then suddenly he wasn’t. Balin suspects poison,” he finished grimly.

“Poison? But-” Her mind stopped a moment. Still drowsy from sleep and the shock she couldn't fathom why anyone would want to poison her father. Unless they were an orc.

A dwarven curse from Oin followed by an eerie silence. Marabell found herself standing, moving to stand beside Dwalin. Balin had moved to Oin’s side as Dis stood by her brother’s head.

Oin had cut through her father’s pant leg and pulled the dressing from the stab wound. The flesh was puckered and seeping black pus. Vains of darkness crept up and down his thigh. What other flesh she could see was either fever red or ashen.

Her stomach turned and she twisted to flee the room only to run into Fili now behind her. Wide-eyed, he managed to hold her about the waist as she doubled over and was sick just outside the door. Ori quickly set down the tea service she had been fussing with and to the dwobbit’s side.

“Is that..?” Dis swallowed thickly, breaking the silence first.

Balin nodded gravely. “Aye. Morgul venom. Did we ever find the knife?” He asked his brother. Dwalin for this part looked a bit pale as he shook his head.

Oin grumbled. “Stubborn fool hadn’t let me treat it either. Said t’was nothing but a knick.”

“A Morgul blade then,” Dis took a deep breath as she straightened. Suddenly she was a queen and the others reacted instantly to her command. “We’ll need to call on the elves and pray they will arrive in time. I fear my brother’s stubbornness has left us with little time to work.”

“They’ll come?” Dwalin asked gruffly.

“They better,” was all Dis could answer.

Fili had managed to get Mara back to the couch. Ori sat next to her, stroking her hair. While he wanted nothing more than to comfort his One, he knew he’d have to get the message to the ravens. “I’ll go-”

There was a commotion at the door as it opened to spill in Kili and four anxious hobbit tweens. All talking over each other in worry as they got to their feet. “Enough!” Snapped Dwalin, silencing the lot.

Frodo, holding Sam’s hand, was quick to move to Bell’s side. The young hobbit lass climbed up into the small space open by Ball’s curled legs. Frodo took to hovering till Ori pulled him up to sit on her lap.

Merry and Pippin were quick to dodge around Dwalin’s large form and slipped up to the bed. Crawling up onto the covers over Oin’s protest to take in the sight of the deathly ill king.

“Is he dead? Ow!” Pipped shot a look to Merry.

“His chest is still moving, idiot.”

Meanwhile, Kee limped up to his brother’s side. “Fee?”

The golden prince shook his head, looking grim. “I need to get to the ravens. I’ll be back.” He held his brother’s gaze a moment before flicking it towards Mara on the couch. When Kili nodded he knew his brother had gotten the message to watch over her while he was gone. Then Fili was out the door.

As the door closed behind Fili, Frodo perked up with wide eyes. “Will the raven’s be alright in this storm?”

“What?” Dwalin turned to the young hobbit, followed quickly by the other dwarves. Frodo slumped down under their collected gazes.

“Oh aya!” Pippin smiled, ignoring the dire mood of the room as he sat kicking his feet at the edge of the big. “Big storm. Couldn’t even see the ground from the walls! We’ve never seen so much snow before. Right, Merry? Merry?” The hobbit in question shook his head, looking serious. Slowly the smile fell from Pippin’s face.

Dis looked nearly as pale as her brother. “Balin, without the ravens…”

He frowned. “A messenger will take nearly a week by land. With the lake nearly frozen over, they might be able to do it in five. But with the storm…”

Taking one last look at her brother Dis moved about the bed. “No use delaying further.” She turned to Dwalin. “Find our spy. We’ll need our fastest messenger to reach them and we can’t risk news of this going outside this room.”

Balin looked worried. “They will know he collapsed. Between the guards we summoned and the nobles we passed, news of the king’s illness will spread.”

The princess agreed. “But they don’t need to know it’s true nature. Fili will sit on the throne in the meantime. The nobles will get restless, I expect them to call for a meeting sooner, rather than later. We have to decide what we’ll tell them, but regardless I want them all called to a meeting in two hours.”

Marabell appeared in the doorway looking listless and a bit lost. Looking years younger. “Why can’t we tell them the truth?”

Balin stepped forward. “It would set the mountain into a panic, knowing their king has been felled by an orcish blade.”

“The truth may come out yet, but for now we will do our best to keep the people calm.”

Oin wiped his hands on a rag and joined them. “We’ll be needing kingsfoil if we want him to live long enough for them elves to get here.”

“Kingsfoil? You mean Athelas, correct?” Sam blushed when they turned to her.

The older dwarf nodded. “Aya. We’ll need to pack his wound with it. Should help to slow down the poison.”

“Would anyone in Dale have it this time of year?” Kili asked thinking of his own run-in with the foal morgul venom.

Bell felt a light tug on her hand. She pulled her eyes from her father’s pale and still form to Samantha’s hand in hers. The small hobbit pulled again and she followed without a word as the others continued their discussion. In the hallway, the other hobbits were chatting animatedly, Merry and Pippin more so. Marabell closed to door to her father’s room gently and the other hobbies turned as the pair approached.

“Are you sure you want to come, Sam?” Frodo asked seriously. “You could wait here for us.”

She shook her head. Her long blond curls were still tight in her sleeping braid. “No, I’m coming with you.”

“We should pack!” Pippin grinned before looking around. “What? It’s like an adventure. We should at least get dressed before we go. Maybe get some cakes to take with us?” He got a look from Merry for the last part.

Marabell looked between them. “Wait, where are you going?”

Merry hit Pippin on the arm before he could speak and answered instead. “We’re going to get the Athelas for your dad. See, we’re hobbits, which makes us the best at finding plants.”

Frodo was nodding along. “We have an idea where we can find some. Come on! We should hurry.”

Marabell took a moment to take in their faces. Each hobbit was eager and bright-eyed, ready for their small little adventure. They must have been going slightly stir crazy with little else to do within the mountain. With the attacks, they had been limited further. Even Bell could appreciate having a purpose. She couldn’t just sit around waiting while her father laid there dying if there was something she could do to help.

“Come on,” she agreed.

* * *

“I’ve never been down here before.” Marabell looked around with interest as they enter a large massive cavern. It was warmer than most areas in the mountain, despite the howling wind at the mouth of the cavern. Sheets of thick hide had been hung over the entrance, keeping the stables surprisingly warm despite the weather.

They had made a quick stop in her room to change into warmers clothes before heading down. Marabell had to stop herself several times from running back to her father’s side. Each time a small hand would find hers and the hobbits would pull her along. Little Frodo did his best to keep her reassured, “We can’t help him there, Bell, but we can help him. He’ll be okay.”

The stables were a new addition to Erebor. Before they had little need for livestock when the kingdom was thriving and they could trade for what they needed. Now they had rams they raised and bred as mounts and for meat, a gift from the Iron Hills. There were also several horses and oxen they used mostly for pulling carts or trade. Hogs, big battle hardened beast, also took up a fair amount of space.

The cavern was carved into the side of the mountain with ease of access to the outside for gazing but not so for everyone not riding a ram. While there was a small winding path for the other animals to use, it was slow going and even so the entrance was hard to spot amongst the rocky outcropping. Most riders relaid on their mounts knowing the way back up the hill towards the entrance. They could also enter through the front gate, a deep tunnel lead from there back to the stables which were often used when housing guests.

“Princess,” So caught looking around she had failed to notice the approach of several dwarves. The stable master, his second, a third she didn’t know, along with two guards. She tried not to look like a misbehaving child even as they bowed to her. “How may we serve you?”

The hobbits simply gave the bowing dwarves smiles as they continued right past. The guards stood back at that and the stablemaster’s second looked downright affronted, his face darkening at the disrespect. However, the master himself only returned their greeting with a tilt of his head before returning his eyes to her.

Bell shuffled her feet a moment with the urge to follow after her small companions. Propriety made her stay and while she spoke with the stable master, his beard weighted heavily with iron, her eyes continued to follow after the hobbits till she lost sight of them around a pen wall.

Frodo glanced at Samatha, her round nose all scrunches as her eyes searched the rocky dirt floor. “It was here, wasn’t it, Sam?”

The she-hobbit crouched near a cluster of dried grasses and muddy hoof prints. “It was, Frodo, but the ground is all moved about. Everything is gone.” The pair had come down here with Ori one day while she was working on the ledgers for Balin. It was important to know how many heads of livestock they had before the shut-in months as it was important for rationing, should they need to.

The hobbits had enjoyed looking at the massive beasts. A single hog alone would have been enough to feed all of Hobbiton! Which was saying a lot given the way hobbits ate. Both Sam and Frodo found that they still preferred the smaller docile pigs of home over the bigger beasts which snapped at them through the slates of their iron pens.

It had been during that time that the pair had noted various herbs, plants and flowers growing inside the cavern by the mouth of the cave. There had been even more along the grazing hill and what had started as a quick errand for Ori, turned into a few hours watching the pair of hobbits play out in the sun.

Marry joined them again, cheeks flushed from his own search. “Nothing. Seems like everything has either been stepped on, eaten or gone with the cold.”

“I worried that would be the case,” Frodo frowned, eyes huge as he looked between his friends. “We’ll have to go to Dale then, if there is none in the mountain. The nearest forest is too far as well. Maybe the humans will have some still.”

“I can get us there!” Pippin was rosy nosed and grinning from ear to ear when he popped back up. His hair slightly damp and wind-tossed, hitting off his cheeks as he turned his head to look at each. “To the big folk, I mean. I know how we can get there.” His pointedly looked back towards the mouth of the cave towards the few large rams enjoying the weather despite the storm bearing down on them.

“Pippin…” Frodo looked more than a little against the idea.

The other hobbit was shaking his head. “No, listen. We’re not like dwarves. They’ll not even feel us! They’re strong enough and fast enough to get us there in a hours time. Two, tops!”

“Even so, Pip,” Merry crossed his arms. “We’re not supposed to leave.”

“But…” Sam nibbled her bottom lip. “If there isn’t any Athelas left here, it’s the only other hope. Without it…” She met Frodo’s eye.

When Marabell finally managed to detached herself from the small dwarven party to meet back up with her smaller friends, she only needed one look to know they were up to some. “What is it?”

Oddly enough, Merry stepped forward. “Change of plans.”

* * *

Fili heard the noise long before he reached the top of the rookery. Several scripts, all pale and wide-eyed under their beards stood speaking with a single guardsman when he reached the upper level.

“My prince, thank Mahal.” Their relief was palpable.

“What’s going on?” So close to the door, the sound of the ravens within was nearly deafening.

The guardsmen shared a look with the scribes. “There’s something in there. I didn’t get a good enough look but it took a dive at me when I entered. Whatever it was had the ravens in a panic. They are calling out the name Durin. Was about to send a message to master Balin before you arrived.”

“No idea what it could be?” Fili asked.

One scribe near the back spoke up. “Some other bird, my prince.”

Fili was tempted to snap back that, of course, it was another bird. Little else could fly or be small enough to get into the rookery in the first place. His head was still back in his uncle's room, his chest tight with worry. He also didn’t like leaving Mara on her own. He needed to get this message out quickly.

Unsheathing his blades he moved through the group. “You,” he pointed to the guardsmen. “With me.” He noticed the dwarf’s heavy swallow and tightening grip. He was still spooked by whatever was in there, but Fili didn’t have time to wait.

The ravens fell silent the moment Fili opens the door.

It’s unusually dark inside. Part of the scribes task is to keep the torches lit and the birds fed. The torches had either burnt themselves out or had fallen to the floor. The winds howled, swirls of errant snowflakes coming in from the upper windows. The sound of their boots on the stones seemed almost too loud.

Fili turned his gaze up.

Every one of Erebor’s ravens were pressed together over the doorway as far away from the darken shape sitting across from them on a higher window ledge. It was a raven. Dark, twisted and _not-right_. It looked down on the prince was far too knowing of eyes. Bits of metal appeared to be shoved through its beak. It’s talons too long, wings oddly bent and larger than most. It had a scroll held within its beak which it dropped.

The scroll landed on the floor with a wet slap which was all wrong before launching itself off the ledge. It screamed at the dwarves as it dove. Fili was quick with his swords as it came at it. At the last moment, the creature pulled back, just beyond the prince’s reach, to fly with a haunting, warbly laugh out the rookery window.

“My prince?” The guard’s voice snapped Fili’s attention back to the scroll left behind. His breath came out in a white mist before him. “Is that…?”

Fili picked up the heavy, thick thing. It was starting to thaw, dripping fat red drops onto the floor. Skin. It was a scroll of skin. The guardsmen gagged as the prince held a single edge, letting it unfurl.

There was part of a dwarven tattoo cut off along the edge he was holding. His eyes made note of it before lowering to the note burnt into the skin itself.

_‘Our father is dead. We look forward to eating your flesh, Durins.’_


End file.
